lauralh: (rain)
The fog this morning made me want to stand still and let the droplets infuse my clothing. Although that sounds and feels rather unpleasant, because the external cold penetrates your clothing more readily that way, it's so beautiful I welcome it. The diffuse lighting gentle against the autumnal foliage, from Seattle to Issaquah, so very lovely. The soundtrack randomly plays Amp and the Helio Sequence, just in case I didn't get the message. Melancholy bliss. Sublime. Everything is starting to die in the most aesthetically pleasing way.

I am actually on the last tenth of Infinite Jest and honestly I'm a little sad that it's ending. I hate to say that I haven't been so empathetic with characters since beginning The Wheel of Time but that's the only thing I can think of. I am often sympathetic with characters in books - this is why I read books instead of having friends when I was young - but this empathizing thing is fairly fresh. Part of it is probably because my own writings feature young men seemingly dead to the world. So I get where DFW is coming from by making the main character one of these. It's partly a great book and partly a letter from the author. It's a punch in the gut to have my innermost secrets pulled out that way, like having a conversation with a new best friend till 4am. I feel a little troubled that I waited to read this after Mr. Wallace's heartbreaking suicide, but on the other hand would I really feel so close to him if I didn't know how crushingly depressed he was? Or would I have been able to guess it?

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Laural Hill

July 2017

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