Randomly found The Portable Hannah Arendt next to copies of Snow Crash and Neuromancer in the complex's shared bookcase so I guess I'm going to ignore all the books I already bought and read that now.
Whenever I find books adjacent to my interests at random, it feels like they were intentionally placed there for me to read, whereas books I just bought don't tend to have any special significance.
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Love it
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Literally the only reason I read Camus, Milton, Virginia Woolf, the Autobiography of Malcolm X, The Prince, the Chicken Qabalah, The Last Unicorn, and I'm sure many others that I'm forgetting. The first 5 I found on an island off the coast of Portland Maine at random.
End of conversation
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