The perfect book doesn’t exis—

Need a gift for the logophile in your life? This book is probably it. In this meticulously researched masterpiece of etymology, author John Koenig brilliantly describes many of the emotions we have all dealt with at some point, but have lacked sufficient words for. Meditating on the enigmatic nature of what it means to be human, this book asks us to consider all the little nuances that exist between the edges of the beauty and the pain of life. From the whimsical and lighthearted aspects of life in this realm, to the modern malaise we feel as we recognize ourselves less and less within it, it covered everything. To be honest, I felt both a sense of panic and a sense of relief as I read this book. That’s because, with every page turned, I was less and less alone in my own mind, finally having names for many of the nagging feelings I’ve held sacred in there for my entire life. Without the need to get into a full review, let's just say it's the kind of book I enjoy reading.

It was difficult to narrow down my favourite words, but here are some of the standouts contained therein:

Allope n.: A mysterious aura of loneliness you feel in certain places; the palpable weight of all the lonely people secretly holed up in their houses and apartments, with a flickering blue glow cast up on their walls-so many of whom might just want someone to talk to, or just want to feel needed, and could be that for each other if only they could somehow connect.

Elsewise adj.: struck by the poignant strangeness of other people’s homes, which smell and feel so different than your own—seeing the details of their private living space, noticing their little daily rituals, the way they’ve arranged their things, the framed photos of people you’ll never know.

Etherness n.: The wistful feeling of looking around a gathering of loved ones, all too aware that even though the room is filled with warmth and laughter now, it won't always be this way-that the coming years will steadily break people away into their own families, or see them pass away one by one, until there comes a time when you'll look back and try to imagine what it felt like to have everyone together in the same place.

Grayshift n.: The tendency for future goals and benchmarks to feel huge when viewed in advance, only to fade into banality as soon as you've achieved them-finally reaching the top of the ladder, only to notice it circling back around like a hamster wheel.

Nighthawk n.: A recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night-an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming future-which you sometimes manage to forget for weeks, only to feel it land on your shoulder once again, quietly building a nest.

Ringlorn adj.: The wish that the modern world felt as epic as the ones depicted in old stories and folktales-a place of tragedy and transcendence, of oaths and omens and fates, where everyday life felt like a quest for glory, a mythic bond with and ancient past, or a battle for survival against a clear enemy, rather than an open-ended parlor game where the rules are made up and the points don't matter.

Slipfast adj.: longing to disappear completely; to melt into a crowd and become invisible, so you can take in the world without having to take part in it—free to wander through conversations without ever leaving footprints, free to dive deep into things without worrying about making a splash.

Sonder n.: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

Treachery of the common n.: the fear that everyone around the world is pretty much the same-that despite our local quirks, we were all mass-produced in the same factory, built outward from the same generic homunculus, preinstalled with the same tribal compulsions and character defects- which would leave you out of options if you ever want to reinvent yourself, or seek out a better society on the other side of the globe.

BRB, going to work on incorporating these gems into my life somehow. Hey, if the tweens can do it with skibidi rizz gyatt, then no cap, it should be fairly straightforward, right? Or maybe I'm just destined to be cheugy. Periodt.