‘What could this book be about?’ You think to yourself.

I’ll walk you through it.

If perfection is all-encompassing, and nobody is perfect, then everybody is missing something.

In the abstract, we, deficiency, swim phonetically. Sound out meaning.

Though that can never be enough to make up for what we lack, this book isn’t lamenting defeat; it’s a celebration of failure.

An act of intimacy with insufficiency; a love letter addressed to Never Enough.

It is, after all, what we aren’t that teaches us how we must live. Breathe, human, you’re no rock. It is always what we aren’t that keeps us going. Live, human, you’re not dead.

Read, human, you’re not illiterate.

Maybe this ode to failure is a failure on a conceptual level. But if it is, is it?

Abstract Deficiency Swims Phonetically

due to negative demand this book is out of print