Never tire yourself more than necessary, even if you have to found a culture on the fatigue of your bones.
When I was in my early twenties, I kept a postcard with his image on it fastened to my rented rickety writing desk. He was my James Dean of the Theatre World. I see him in modern, post-modern, surreal, existentialist and avant-garde works. Some mornings, if I’ve polished it just right, I see him in my toaster—but only because the coffee hasn’t brewed yet. No. You are correct. There is no rationalizing beyond logic going on in this post. Just fatigue, pure and simple.
You must be logged in to post a comment.