“I draw a hot sorrow bath. In my despair room,” reads one line.
Each page of the book features a line more somber than the last — printed in large ink blot letters that look as though they’ve been smudged by falling tears. The book ends with a single black hole and the words, “It can always be worse.”
Oh, Keanu, I feel your pain so deeply, for I, too, know the false comfort of a hot sorrow bath, and I, too, know the beauty of a notebook full of emotions and self loathing and words made unrecognizable by tears of anguish. I know you, Keanu, and I hope you can find some solace in that.
Oh, wait … you’re joking?
“I was in my kitchen hanging out with my friend Janey, and the radio was on,” Reeves said in explaining the inception of his book. “And this station was playing, like, an orgy of depressing, self-pitying, nostalgic music … It was so voluptuously horrible. And I just started to write on this piece of paper, because I had this image of, you know, that moment when you take a bath, you light that candle, and you’re really just kind of depressed. And it was making Janey laugh so hard, I just kept going, piling on the self-pity.”
Well, then I’ll weep for my lost brother in torment during my next hot sorrow bath. I’ll also eagerly await Keanu’s next book idea to pan out – he calls it Haikus of Hope, and it would be “basically like, ‘I want to kill myself,’ and go from there.” Such an artist, that Keanu.