I appreciated the uniqueness of this book and the fact that Caspers shared all these private thoughts with her readers. It must have taken a lot of courage to write a line like "it became clear to me that I had to carry my body through millions more minutes" (9). She was basically letting her readers know that to live, for her, was a challenge.
However, I wish I could say that I enjoyed reading this book. Because I didn’t. It was tedious, difficult, and exhausting. I hate to criticize a piece of work so personal and worthy to its writer, but it almost felt like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to read. Her ideas are all over the place and the metaphors, along with the imagery she uses, don’t seem to tie into the descriptions that follow. “DEEP BLUE. Silver. Black. Cooing. Whoosh, woosh. A ringing bell and then more black” is followed by “Who told her to wear that shirt?” (27). Then she mentions a man with a green backpack possibly gawking at her white refrigerator. I mean why throw in all these colors and descriptions when they don’t provide us with any important understanding of what she is describing?