:: Oh, Look, A Tumbleweed ::

I miss the quotes. Don't you? :: Wednesday, April 27, 2005 ::

-All the time I hate what I am doing and want the other. In a room full of people I get frantic in their air and their shout and when I'm alone I sniff the smell of their bodies against my clothes. I'm scared Webb, don't think I will find one person who will be the right audience. All you've done is cut me in half, pointing me here. Where I don't want these answers.

-What do you want to know about me Webb? I'm alone. I desire every woman I remember. Everything is clear here and still I feel my brain has walked away and is watching me. I feel I hover over the objects in this house, over every person in my memory -- like those paint saints in my mother's church who seem to always have six or seven inches between them and the ground. Posing as humans. I give myself immaculate twenty minute shaves in the morning. Tap some lotion on me and cook a fabulous breakfast. Only meal of the day. So I move from the morning's energy into the later hours of alcohol and hunger and thickness and tiredness. Trying to overcome this awful and stupid clarity.

-Michael Ondaatje

Man, I fucking love this book. Almost every book we've read this year for AP English has been fucking amazing. The only two I didn't like even have technicalties. I didn't so much like the overt narratives of Frankenstein or Portrait, but what Shelley and Joyce do in those novels to really bring out the full effect and the themes of those novels I really got into. Man, I'm going to miss Whiteside.

:: Nick Wednesday, April 27, 2005 [+] ::