I read Ij a year ago and I now realize that the point of the whole book wasn't to solidify some philosophical meaning into me but was to allow me a huge catalog of memories of scenes which I could replay in my mind like a dream or movie which he would probably think would cure the loneliness by allowing yourself to be captivated by your own pscyche and not actual images on the screen. Which is the point of the whole book I assume.

It's a book that means an immense, thematically sprawling number of things and also nothing.