Source: Kindle Cover I read a book after so long, almost a year, I think. I’ve always had this strange habit when it comes to reading: I overcommit. I start several books at once, lose track, and end up finishing none. This time, though, I tried to keep it simple, The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, and The Stranger by Albert Camus. Two books. Simple. Manageable. And maybe a little bit symbolic where one is rooted in emotional chaos, the other in emotional absence. I’ve always considered myself someone who enjoys philosophy. At different stages of my life, I’ve seen myself through many ideological lenses - a Marxist, a radical communist, an anarchist, a monarchist, a nihilist, and now, after reading Camus, maybe even an absurdist. Maybe that’s a flaw, or maybe it’s growth. Maybe I’m just trying to understand myself better each time I change. I finished The Stranger in four days. These are some of the thoughts running through my mind after closing the book. I can understand Meursa...