Managed to catch The Art of Getting By on the way to Kyoto on the bullet train. In a way and more it was similar to the perks of being a wallflower. I find George very easy to relate to on a personal level; I never saw the point in doing anything, feeling whatever it is that we feel. At first it used to bother me a lot that I constantly feel the way I have been feeling. After awhile, whatever it is that I feel becomes a sort of added flavour, unimportant and meaningless, like bad background music in a movie you are watching. When you get sliced by a knife, the pain is simply an illusion, something insubstantial and meaningless, hardly noticeable, like the background music. Disregard it, you feel nothing but reassurance that you are not yet dead; it is not time to wake up from life.

Everything we do, all we achieve, are but illusions. We live alone, and taking nothing along with us, die alone.











ps look at those things i had them for lunch