I came home, 9:30 pm roughly, cracked open a Bud Lite lime and sat at the table, sipping away, staring out into oblivion, thinking of absolutely nothing, absolutely nothing--and it was beautiful. And I didn't have to contort my face in such a way that said "yes, I understand, yes I'm thinking about this text critically, yes, this matters to me. I live and breathe and eat and defecate Kafka/Nietzsche/Dostoevsky/Freud/Woolf," while jotting down notes vigilantly.
Just a beer, a chair, and eyes that can't keep focus. And with some effort I explained to Nicole and Jackie what I learned in class today, namely that everyone just wants to have sex with everybody, all the time, and we also want to punch each other in the face. But society doesn't let us do that, so we can never be happy--the best we can do is be less unhappy, by drinking, or drugs, or throwing ourselves into art or science. And shit, isn't reading Freud uplifting or what?
Days like this I'm certain I need to graduate and get the hell away from this place.
0 comments:
Post a Comment