I am looking for my sense of humour. Have you seen it? Perhaps the problem is that I'm looking. Perhaps I should try to touch it or hear it...or smell it.
The world has grown too much. Reading Elizabeth Costello, I realize that I weep like an old person. That I crave peace like an old person. That I believe in evil like an old person. I can hardly stomach my books anymore, much less online news reports. Nausea and a lie-down have become routine. The ridiculousness of my reaction would be funny, I'm sure, if only I could sense that damn humour.
The world has grown too much. Reading Elizabeth Costello, I realize that I weep like an old person. That I crave peace like an old person. That I believe in evil like an old person. I can hardly stomach my books anymore, much less online news reports. Nausea and a lie-down have become routine. The ridiculousness of my reaction would be funny, I'm sure, if only I could sense that damn humour.
posted by Precocity at 10:47 PM
1 Comments:
Oh Katya, your sense of humour is alive and kicking. Nausea and Lie-downs just mean you're still alive. Albeit Old.
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