Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

Failure of the Day: 4 Down; 10 To Go

Bucky says the sensation of sadness and the impression that life is meaningless is a construct of my hunger. He says it's a kind of counter attack staged by my addiction: if it can't get me physically, it'll get me emotionally.

For the record, I trust him 100% on this, and not just because I like that idea very much and it makes me feel better to believe it.

He also says I will start to feel better in about 2 weeks. I'm OK with that, too—one thing I know about myself is that I can deal with just about anything as long as I know it's finite. That's not so much to ask, really, just that life as merely a grim endurance test ends at some point, right?

I swear to god I'm not intending to be such a downer. I keep thinking I'll write something a little bit funny or something. It hasn't exactly worked out that way, at least not this week, and ditto for keeping up my half of a conversation without getting irritable and snippy or too gloomy to deal with. So I'm eschewing the telephone completely I'm laying off email too. I'll put up a new blog entry when I'm a little less morose.


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