Reading this (or trying to read it) feels like tuning a radio: static, then a clear voice saying, "You were never broken" — then static again. The fragments are beautiful but deliberately disjointed. One page reads like a journal entry from 3 a.m.; the next, a letter to a future self; another, a blank page with a coffee stain and the word "breathe" handwritten.
The tension is in the title’s paradox. If I was never broken, why do I need to search so hard? The book doesn't answer — it embodies the search. Every category (memoir, poetry, psychology, even “New Age”) feels like a misfit. Amazon’s algorithm would hate this. But maybe that’s the point. Searching for- I Was Never Broken in-All Catego...
Here’s an interesting, slightly unconventional review based on that evocative fragment: By a restless reader Reading this (or trying to read it) feels