I read this in one sitting


I don't know what was better.

The protagonist.

The part where he walked in on his boyfriend jacking off to some hipster gay kid with long blond hair and Velma glasses on his webcam. The skinny jeans. The horrible, horrible images of guys getting crushed by trains. All of the art and the fact that it meant nothing and everything at the same time. The blackout sex. Clark Kent. Sunset Rubdown. Mick Jagger. Yarn art.

This is the best fucking book I've read in a long time.