I don’t reflect enough, really, on these things that I learn, and it’s not until I try to explain them to someone else that they start to make sense. ARTICULATE.
David Foster Wallace is filling me with a deep sense of despair right now,
“we are all trying to see each other through these tiny key holes.” Is that all it is, am I only ever able to get that tiny squeeze of you? I’d ask for more but I can’t fit a question like that through a key hole.
I’ve been reading something, and it’s impulsive and brilliant. It makes me think.
I have meta on the mind, form form form match it all up with the content, I’m struggling with originality.
This is the impulse that I’m trying to explain, a flash, an instant where I decided I’d like to post something to my blog. It happened in the time it took me to blink, probably less, and it’s taken me ten minutes to write down. There’s probably no possibility, really, for communication.
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