He Was Of The Faith Chiefly In

Jake Was Close To Tears. In That Moment He Saw The World In Its True Light, As A Place Where Nothing Had Ever Been Any Good And Nothing Of Significance Done: No Art Worth A Second Look, No Philosophy Of The Slightest Appositeness, No Law But Served The State, No History That Gave An Inkling Of How It Had Been And What Had Happened. And No Love, Only Egotism, Infatuation And Lust.

When That Ineffable Compound Of Depression, Sadness (these Two Are Not The Same), Anxiety, Self-hatred, Sense Of Failure And Fear For The Future Begins To Steal Over You, Start Telling Yourself That What You Have Is A Hangover. You Are Not Sickening For Anything, You Have Not Suffered A Minor Brain Lesion, You Are Not All That Bad At Your Job, Your Family And Friends Are Not Leagued In A Conspiracy Of Barely Maintained Silence About What A S**t You Are, You Have Not Come At Last To See Life As It Really Is And There Is No Use Crying Over Spilt Milk.

A Blonde Girl Wearing A Man's Shirt But In All Other Visible Respects Unmanly To The Point Of Outright Effeminacy.

Now And Then I Become Conscious Of Having The Reputation Of Being One Of The Great Drinkers, If Not One Of The Great Drunks, Of Our Time.

The Rewards For Being Sane May Not Be Very Many, But Knowing What's Funny Is One Of Them.