Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day, and stuff. I'm really not into it this year. Mostly because I'm feeling full of shite today and rather than let it discombobulate my brain as I usually do, I figured I'd take to my blog about it.
Life-purgatory. I know it well. I'm so confused across so many personality/character/life-choice categories that I can't even being to sort out what to do. Somehow I'll waste entire weeks, nay, months, without really learning or accomplishing anything, and yet, I'm always feeling ridiculously pressed for time. What a a shitty, self-indulgent paradox.
I've been meaning to do a cross-examination discussion of three of the novels I read this summer that have been very affirmative to my worldview. East of Eden by John Steinbeck, which I loved so much that I inked his personal correspondence seal betwixt my shoulder blades, Freddy's Book by John Gardner, which broke my heart, and No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy, which was fairly redundant after seeing the movie (further evidence of the Coen bros' genius. They captured every dropped bomb of the novel and cut out everything that served as filler without really letting you in on it. The book is almost totally void of punctuation, and I think that came across beautifully in the movie, a sweeping, mechanical, painful crescendo, comparable only to the work of a vacuum cleaner, I think. Quite literally sucks you in and loses you in the dirt and glitter off the ground). I plan on this. Let me just get home to my notes on a solitary Friday night.
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