I'm reading The Sound and the Fury, and there's this part where Quentin starts laughing uncontrollably when things are really really fucked for him, and it's crazy, but I know, I know, I know. No book has depressed me this much ever. And I hate using words like depressed and whatnot, but that's just what it is. It's a feeling of utter hopelessness. When you're too tired to argue or explain or fight.
Sometimes I wish I didn't understand anything.
R has dirty ears. Or is that too Bathos?
But R seems happy. In his sweet little bubble. I envy that sort of a rhino-hide (paradox?). I don't respect it, but I certainly do envy it (paradox?).
I love it when people think I could have an opinion. They are wrong, I don't. But it feels so incredibly nice.
Oh dubloo tee eff, it's not working. Will probably delete later.