A paragraph for INFPs:
I don't listen. I feel rage. Rage at Lockett. Rage at his film. Rage at the brown blanket on top of the mattress and the blue one in front of the window. Rage at the deceptive cadences of the loudspeaker. Rage at the size of the room. Rage now, every few minutes, at the sound of the footsteps in the hall. Rage at being somewhere else or not being somewhere else. Rage at what I've forgotten and what is taking its place. Rage at the words I let wander on.
I feel languid.
(RUDOLPH WURLITZER)
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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raging hot pants of fire
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