One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.

Posts from the Chapter 43 Category

376I washed the precipitation and the expedition from my face. I washed the monotony, I washed the justification, the harmony, the contradiction, the absurdity, the disambiguation, and the fatality. My clarity of vision now seems mockingly poor.

375Every explosive emotion around us that emerges and submerges has a mark of grimy flimsiness, a core of pointlessness. Sometimes is best to force yourself to silence.


371What’s my narrative? I don’t know. Today I abhor the turpitude of my dreams last night, which were crowded with syrupy specters that were burning my eyes while I was trying to escape the puppet theater of my bodily existence. But tomorrow’s narrative, who knows? In fact, everything may change right after breakfast.