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102 minutes - the untold stories of the fight to survive inside the twin towers

book number: forty author(s): jim dwyer and kevin flynn genre: nonfiction finished on: 22 december, 2017

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review xxxv: into the wild

This book was good. Not the magical experience my sister (and a good handful of others) promised, but good. It was intense at parts, lax at some, and managed to hold my attention enough that I (eventually) finished. Chris McCandles seems like a self-absorbed idiot, who doesn't understand that the world doesn't operate based on his strange philosophies. Maybe he's better of dead.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2217804177

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xxxiv: lord of the flies

My only real thought on this book was: "Yeah, it was good." Lord of the Flies wasn't a life-changing, eye opening novel as some have said it to be, but, then again, what book really ever is? I enjoyed pondering the underlying themes of government in society. Not as in depth as I'll be forced to later, I'm sure. I did have a few strong opinions: Piggy was (RIP, but not really) annoying, humans suck, and Ralph had a serious stroke of luck at the end there. Besides that, the dialogue was surprisingly good (I value dialogue above nearly everything) and it was overall an interesting read.

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review xxxiii: the rest of us just live here

I have a lot of feelings based around this book. All good ones. I love Patrick Ness (big feeling #1), and that's the main reason why I even picked up this book in the first place. As usual, his writing did not disappoint me. The worldbuilding, characters, and dialogue are just as great as you can find in any of his works. It's a different style from More Than This and A Monster Calls, but that's not a bad thing. In fact, the almost carefree writing was perfect for this novel. Many of its concepts are interesting as well. It puts forth the idea that you can be gay and not in love with your best friend (as a common stereotype would argue otherwise), and how even if you're "broken", like Mikey with his anxiety, you don't need an epic romance to make you feel better about yourself. This book isn't about heroes - the "indie kids" who fight vampires and save the world. It's just about a group of friends trying to graduate and stay alive.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2211342719

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review xxxii: the underground railroad

The Underground Railroad, which tells the story of Cora, a former slave, and her dangerous journey to freedom, is interesting and well-written. The characters are real and multilayered, no matter how quickly they may come and go from the narrative. While reading, I felt true fear for Cora, and pity as well. Not the BESTBEST, but good nonetheless.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2199441357

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review xxxi: a stolen life

With a story similar to Colleen Stan's, written in first person, this book is one that left me both horrified and intrigued. Once again, it posed the question of what causes people to act the way that Dugard's kidnapper did, and to treat people the way he treated her. The writing wasn't the best, but the story itself was compelling and kept me reading.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2208120651

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review xxx: the call of the wild

I remember reading the abridged version of this book about a million times when I was younger, but this was my first time even seeing the regular version. I have to say, it's much better, and shorter, than I expected. Buck's story is heartbreaking and beautiful, with a perfect ending that leaves the reader wanting for nothing. This book is raw and real, and truly one of my new favorites.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2208118363

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review xxix: the importance of being earnest

I had expected this play to be dull, being a classic. However, I was pleasantly surprised. The main character, Jack, is witty and sarcastic (my favorite quote: "If you are not too long, I'll wait for you all my life.") and the other characters compliment his personality nicely. It's a good read, short enough not to be dull and long enough to settle down with. Hearing this on the radio must have been fun.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2203653541

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Home To You

The wind ruffled Nezumi’s hair. He was reminded of Karan, running her hands through his hair gently, before sending him off. And Shion behind her, stone faced, not meeting his eyes. One last hug - I wish you would stay - but no tears in their goodbyes. 

Shion, I never knew you could be strong like that. Shion, I hope you know I think you’re strong.

Shion, I’m coming home.

How long had it been, since he’d said goodbye? Two years, months more? And how many days had he spent wide awake, missing the warmth of Shion beside him? Why did I have to let you in? Why couldn’t you just stay away?

“You don’t have to leave. Nezumi, it’s good here. We have friends, and little Shionn, and my mother. Can’t you be satisfied? What more do you need to be satisfied?”

No. I’m sorry, Shion. I should’ve stayed. Why did I hurt you? It hurt me, too. More than I thought it would. Dammit. She told me not to trust others. She told me not to rely. How did I fail? How could I let you close?

“I knew you were cold. But I never thought you didn’t care.”

He did care. He did. Shion, I cared so much. You and your white hair and quick smile and empty head. Naive, you were. How have you changed? Never change. That’s what I said. But you were never very good at listening. 

There it is. The bakery, with its battered door. So Karan hadn’t let you pressure her into fixing it, after all. Not everything has to be fixed. You always want to help, but that’s just you. Stupid. Stupid Shion. 

The aroma of bread filled the air. Cakes, rolls, and cravats. He still remembered when Shion had named his mouse after that treat. Hamlet, Tsukiyo, Cravat. Hamlet and Tsukiyo had died not long after he’d left Shion, in the winter. As was life. They were spoiled; not used to surviving outside of their home, with its warm furnace and book homes Shion constructed for them. 

Together, Nezumi and Shion had spent only one winter in that room. Half a year, maybe just over. Now the place was tainted with memories of the white haired boy: of how his hair would melt into the snowy background, and how Shion would lie next to Nezumi, curled into his stomach with his purple eyes focused intently on a book. The days in the room were over, but maybe new ones, here, in No. 6, could be just as good. 

“I love you, Nezumi. I think that’s the only explanation for why I care, and why I want to protect you. I’ve never known a feeling like this before. Like every moment in my life has only been leading up to the ones I’ve shared with you. Like I would gladly die, if it meant you could survive. I don’t know what it is, but I’m calling it love.”

“Idiot.”

“Huh?”

“I said you’re an idiot. You think I want you to die for me? You think I want to be the survivor? You’re an idiot.”

“Does that mean you feel the same?”

“You’re an idiot.” He’d repeated, and they’d lapsed into comfortable silence, as though nothing in this world were more natural, two boys standing close and watching the stars rise over the monster city. No.6.

He stepped into the bakery, a wave of anxiety hitting him suddenly. Don’t be stupid, he thought, it’s Shion. You’re here to see Shion, who would never hurt you. Shion. Just Shion. 

Still, it had been so long. Two years, but much could change in that time.

A bell announced his presence, the ringing light and pleasant, unassuming. Karan stepped out from behind a door, wiping her hands on a towel. “Hello, what can I -”

The towel fell from her hands, hitting the floor without event. Nezumi bent to pick it up, trying to ignore the sudden flush on his cheeks. What was this? This feeling? Embarrassment? Shame? Glee? He handed her the towel wordlessly. Despite knowing that this was Karan, Shion’s mother, who would never hurt him or imagine doing so, he was on edge. He was a rat, ready to scurry at the slightest hint of trouble.

His name wasn’t meaningless, after all.

“Nezumi? Is that - have you really returned?” She stepped closer to him, taking his face in her hands gently, like she was afraid he’d shatter. “Shion always said you would, but I...I...”

“Can I see him?” He pulled away, swallowing the lump in his throat. These people, they took down his defenses. Why could a smile and kiss do what a knife and pain could not?

“No.”

“No?”

“I mean, yes, yes, he’d - he’s just working, right now.”

“Working.”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “And what about the baby? Is that his?”

The crying had been light enough that Nezumi hadn’t noticed it, at first, but now it rang through the shop clear as the bell. He couldn’t suppress the jealousy he felt at the idea of Shion having a child, and a wife, and a life for himself. But, still, he’d smile. A tease. Good for you, Shion. Finally learning some things. 

Karan shook her head. “No, it’s Shionn. Inukashi’s.”

“Is he here, then?” The dogkeeper had never been one of Nezumi’s favorite people, but that wasn’t to say that they weren’t close. After all, they’d destroyed the city together. That was a bonding exercise if anything.

“He’s sleeping. Shionn’s got him all worn out. But you should see the baby; walking and gargling, now. He’s a surprisingly good parent to the child.”

“When will Shion be back?”

“Not long, I would say. I can’t...we all thought you’d gone forever. Hadn’t died, of course, you’re too strong for that. But we’d no idea where you’d gone off to. I gave up hope a long time ago.”

“Did you miss my good looks?”

“No, not really.” She waved him away. “But Shion missed you. He didn’t smile for months, and when he did there was this emptiness to it. Like even when he was happy something was weighing him down. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah.” He did, because he’d felt the same way himself. See what happens when we’re not together? Our worlds implode. Kaboom, dynamite. Better off dead.

“Karan?” The dogkeeper stumbled out of the same door the baker had appeared from earlier, stretching widely. He’d grown in the past years; there was no real way Nezumi could’ve known the boy’s age, but he had to guess he was but twelve or thirteen. Now, he was as old as Nezumi had been when he’d left. Sixteen, maybe a bit younger. Nearly grown. His hair was still the long, greasy mess he remembered, but Inukashi’s eyes sparkled with a new mirth, and his figure was more lean, less starved. “I heard ya talking. Is this a friend?”

“I’m hurt. Do you really not recognize me?” 

“Who are you to - no.” He stepped closer to Nezumi, as though needing a better view. In a soft, raspy voice, he said, “Nezumi?”

“Who else?”

The dogkeeper clung to him, hitting at his back with weak fists. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it! Shion’s going to be ecstatic, or he’ll kill you. We’ll all dance on your grave, the old man included!”

“Whose grave?”

Shion spoke from behind them. His voice was weary, less boyish and unassuming that Nezumi remembered. As he turned, he saw that the spots underneath Shion’s eyes were more vibrant. His hair stuck up like a madman’s, still the same eerie white. His scar, trailing around his hands, neck, and, he knew, chest, was raw as if still healing. 

All the words he’d been planning to say caught in his throat, choking him. All he could think was that this was Shion, here, beautiful, with his purple eyes and white white skin and translucent hair, beautiful despite what he thinks. And he was looking at him the way a freed man looks at the stars. Glowing. Real. 

Shion.

That’s what he’d meant to say. I’m sorry. I was so, so stupid. Forgive me. I no longer fear you. I missed you. He’d answer all the questions, every bit he’d ever withheld. My name is -. Yes, I love you. Here is what I know; here is what I have seen. But instead he was paralyzed, lost for words and breath, because he was here. After all this time, they were together.

Shion stumbled towards him, taking Nezumi’s face in his hands. Not as Karan had, so softy and tenderly. But roughly. Like he was holding on to a mirage, holding on to hope, and wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers. They kissed, and collapsed to the floor, each refusing to break away first. 

Through his tears, Nezumi blubbered out nonsense. He couldn’t believe he’d let his emotions run away like this. But, surely, this time it was warranted. With Shion, it would be alright. He tried to pull him closer, to the point where he was in Shion’s lap, bawling into his shoulder like a child, clinging like he was the only thing keeping him tethered to this hopeless world. 

Shion rubbed his back, a small smile on his face. He knew. He knew that their goodbye was not the end. He’d waited for so long, and not for nothing. Nezumi was home. 

He pushed him away gently, just enough to see his face. His eyes. Those startling gray eyes, a color he’d never known existed until he met Nezumi. Like rocks at the bottom of a pool, or the smallest fragments of stones in the pavement. “You know,” he said, voice shaking, “I think that I’m taller than you now.”

And they lost themselves again.

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review xxviii: perfect victim, the true story of “the girl in the box”

There's a certain horror that creeps up in the middle of the night, invading your thoughts and disrupting your sleep. It's a fear that can only be caused by a nonfiction account such as this. In a fictional piece, the events of this narrative would've seemed lucrative, and far fetched. But knowing that they actually transpired has made me rethink many aspects of my life. It may not be one of the best pieces I've read, writing wise, but it was still interesting and kept me reading to the end.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2199459151

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review xxvii: what if

The thing about this book is, it was good. Good, but boring. It's the kind of book that, as much as I wanted to get through it and move on, I couldn't read much of at once. It's less of a single continuous novel, and more of something I'd rather read section by section, and pick up when I was bored. Which wasn't how I was doing it. The author, Randall Munroe, obviously put a lot of time and thought into it, based on how humorous and well researched his answers are, but overall I just couldn't enjoy it.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2199436958

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This book was yet another great read. I’m 100% surprised I’ve managed to enjoy so many books doing this challenge. It has a lot of tropes, sure, like the everyone knows we’re in love except for us and the falling in love with your best friend ones, but the book really brings out the best in them. Its canonic bisexual and ace/aro characters bring representation that is hard to come by. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue has so many things to love: descriptive, poetic writing; “pirates” that don’t really know what they’re doing; and, most of all, a love story to rival that of Lancelot and Guinevere. It’s long, but still left me wanting more.

“The stars dust gold leafing on his skin. And we are looking at each other, just looking, and I swear there are whole lifetimes lived in those small, shared seconds.” - Mackenzi Lee, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue

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the both die at the end : additional project

bold - mateo regular - rufus

Why does it have to be like this, anyway? Is it really fair that we should die, when I’ve barely even had the chance to live?

That's the idea behind Last Friends and Death-Cast, isn't it? To give you one night where you know better than to have any limits?

If anything, I think it gives us more limits. Just because you know you're going to die doesn't mean you can just throw everything away. You have twenty-four hours, and at any random point you're going to croak, be it from a car crash or a heart attack or some random bird stabbing you with its beak. It'll happen. Being reckless is only going to shorten the span of time you have to be with friends and say goodbyes.

True, but once you get your goodbyes out of the way, you're golden.

Not really. And it makes you think, why one day? Why don't they give us a week? Why can't we just know from the beginning of our lives, even?

I don't think the technology works that well yet.

Than I think they shouldn't tell us at all. It's good for closure, maybe, but the whole idea of it, in general, sucks. It just makes you realize how much of a waste your life has been.

Your life hasn't been a waste. Don't even think that.

Really? Because it's not like it's been some sort of grand adventure, either. Every day, I think this is it. I'm going to go outside and live. Right now. Today. And hell if I actually do. That's not how the world works. There's nothing pressuring you to succeed, or even try to. Only yourself, and I was never motivated enough to do that.

Still...

For God's sake, I never even got up the nerve to tell my father I was gay. Then he got in his accident, and hell knows if he'll ever wake up, and now I'm going to die. I never got to say goodbye. Today's supposed to be the day you do that, right? It's supposed to be the day you get to say goodbye.

I'm sorry, Mateo.

You didn't do this.

No, but I'm sorry we weren't able to meet under different circumstances. To become friends, and to fall in love, and to know that it'll never end. To feel that infinity together.

Me too.

You know what I'll regret, even when I'm dead?

What?

Not telling people how I feel. Not saying "I'm sorry" when it's warranted, and not telling people I love that, you know, I do.

Those are pretty crap things to regret.

Yeah?

No - I mean - like, those are some of the harder things. Always wondering what might've gone differently if you'd been brave in that way, instead of stupid as you were.

Would you regret that? Not telling someone that you love them?

No. I think I've told basically everyone how I feel. There's only about four people I really care about, anyway. Well, five, counting you.

You've never told me anything like that.

You're searching for compliments now.

Maybe.

I do.

What?

Love you. I do love you.

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“The stars dust gold leafing on his skin. And we are looking at each other, just looking, and I swear there are whole lifetimes lived in those small, shared seconds.” - Mackenzi Lee, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue

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review xxvi: running

I wanted to like this book. I really did. Maybe it was my half-lucid, midnight state, or maybe it was the random jump between times, or maybe it was just the book itself, but something about the writing threw me off. There was both good and bad in this. I liked how there were seemingly unimportant mentions or moments that ended up saying a lot more than they seemed, but I didn't like the flowery writing style that distracted from the plot. I might reread this again, but only to see what I missed.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2193162086

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review xxv: dark matter

Yet another new favorite. Dark Matter is compelling, smart, and tackles the idea of parallel worlds with surprising ease. The idea that every action in this book has a serious reaction is one of my favorite parts, leading up to a surprising and wonderful twist near the end. The conflicts are well thought out, and the characters complex. I wish for nothing less than a happy life for every single one of them, and still wonder about whether they were able to get one. The science of this book only betters it, and will definitely make you think. 10/10 must read.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2193114213