3 chapters later, and i'm still reading about the background of the characters in vonnegut's book. there's just no end. ugh, i don't even know why i'm reading this book.
that R.A. that i talked to at lunch yesterday stopped me in the hall today to talk about vonnegut, since i was carrying the book down to dinner. she read breakfast of champions and said it got weird towards the end of the book.
326 pages long. i could finish it by the end of the week. i also started a study in scarlet, one portion of that huge ass holmes book. as i read, i could imagine sherlock and watson firing off remark after remark in that civilized and formalized british manner. i found it funny, much funnier than sirens of titan. the most that book can do is leave me with a smirk or a frown.
even nants bothers to im me infrequently. ugh. away with you all. i don't care about any of you, jesus.
my cousin imed me today about a postcard. he asked me if i had a friend named brad, and i responded, "WHO?!"
i read the book, but i'm not reading the book. i read the person who wrote the book, the person who has read the book, trying to dissect their brain, if you will.
i claim: hormonal imbalance. it may account for these surges/rushes of emotion that overwhelm me even as i walk back to the apartment from the servery. i start closing my eyes and stop moving when they happen. i hope nobody notices. i also hope nobody noticed me spilling black beans all over the table and my jeans at dinner tonight.
i was wondering what the sports coach meant at dinner when he said the fog was setting. then i knew what he meant when he walked outside. i never experience this before- a darkening of the city at 7:00 because the sky is overcast by clouds of grey.
No comments:
Post a Comment