just finished this morning while sitting outside my apartment with a cup of coffee and an american spirit and holy shit the last chapter may have been one of the most devastating vibes i've felt... just like all of history, everything that's mattered, swept into oblivion by the closures of story, prophesy, and family lines... so so so good u should read it but be warned that every paragraph in this book is full to the brim with activity, everything feels as if its happening all at once for the entire four hundred something pages
A short account of what that looked like and how it inspired Gabo's 100 Years of Solitude. The greatness of United States stomps on people, leaving a trail of blood wherever they go.
I'm currently reading One hundert years of solitude by Gabriel GarcÃa Márquez and in one of the chapters he mentions my hometown which is on the other side of the globe from Macondo. It's so funny to me that everytime someone mentions my city or country the voices in my head order me to point this out and tell all my friends even if it has nothing to do with the plotline.
made a joke post on substack notes that i honestly still think is pretty funny but it turns out it went whoosh right over a lot of peoples' heads, especially on twitter people thought it was serious,—and so here i am with my phone blowing up because friends and people i haven't heard from in years are just seeing it on their feeds and texting me allll about it
