This blog will comprise a collection of ephemera, mess and miscellaneous artifacts reflecting on the writer's life.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Today I have existential angst (yesterday we had commodity fetishism and tomorrow we have... well never mind).
I think it is something to do with the long dark nights closing in.
At least I am not living in the Arctic where from now on it is dark.
Hamlet ofcourse had it and his to be or not to be speech is a prime example, as did Virgina Woolf.
In Between the Acts, her last book, she reduces life to orts and fragments.
I like the idea of an ort. I might research them.
But maybe it is just my inability to get up in the morning that is inducing gloom.
Yes! I have got it. I will go and play the blues.