Why must we run and jump and speak concise lines of dialogue that mean so much more? Why must we ride trains and appear completely lost, yet have a deeper meaning in our aimlessness? ... why must we evolve (or regress) in the time it takes to write seven thousand words? … We are reluctant protagonists. We like to stare at walls and dream about owning a vineyard and making love to superficial women and men with angular jaws.
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