Anytime I have to talk to a group of more than three people I don’t know very well at the same time I seem like I’ve just snorted an excessive amount of cocaine.
"Something in me naturally migrated away from the fray, preferring the deliberate meaningfulness of fiction to unaccounted-for reality, preferring a shapeless freedom to the robust work of yoking my thoughts to the logic and flow of another’s. When I had tried it in any sort of sustained way, first in relationships, and then in my marriage to S, it had failed. Looking back, perhaps the other reason I had been happy, for a while, with R is that he had been as absent as I had been, or even more so. We were two people locked in our antigravity suits who happened to be orbiting around the same pieces of his mother’s old furniture. And then he had drifted off, through some loophole in our apartment, to an unreachable part of the cosmos."
- Nicole Krauss, Great House (via piazza)
I decided to have a bed-in…but I forgot to invite anybody.
Infinite Jest, Page 178: “Eviction”
"Eviction" - an erasure poem from page 178 of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest
2011 (ish?) was weird for all of us and we don’t talk about it while sober.