And now this. Shock. Utter nihilistic shock. Perverse desire to retreat into not caring. I am incapable of loving or feeling now: self-induced. Out of it, kid. Read a story: Think. You can. You must, moreover, not continually run away while asleep - forget details - ignore problems - shut down walls up between you and the world and all the gay bright girls: - please think - snap out of this. Believe in some benefit force beyond your own limited self. You must not think escape like this. You must think.
I began to get enormously interested in how everybody said the same thing over and over again with infinite variations but over and over again until finally if you listened with great intensity you could hear it rise and fall and tell all that there was inside them, not so much by the actual words they said or the thoughts they had but the movement of their thoughts and words endlessly the same and endlessly different.
How can I remain peaceful without turning my face completely to the world? I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people. In all other ways I lead a perfectly ordinary life - except that I do not like thinking and talking about anything ordinary unless one makes me.