If I Knew I Was Going To

When Someone Writes A Book Review, They Obviously Already Self-identify As A Writer. I Mean, They Are. They're Writers, They're Critics, And They're Writing About A Book About A Writer Who's A Critic. So I Think It's Really Hard For People To Distance Themselves From What They're Criticizing.

It's Far Easier To Write Why Something Is Terrible Than Why It's Good. If You're Reviewing A Film And You Decide "this Is A Movie I Don't Like," Basically You Can Take Every Element Of The Film And Find The Obvious Flaw, Or Argue That It Seems Ridiculous, Or Like A Parody Of Itself, Or That It's Not As Good As Something Similar That Was Done In A Previous Film. What's Hard To Do Is Describe Why You Like Something. Because Ultimately, The Reason Things Move People Is Very Amorphous. You Can Be Cerebral About Things You Hate, But Most Of The Things You Like Tend To Be Very Emotive.

There Are Two Ways To Look At Life. The First View Is That Nothing Stays The Same And That Nothing Is Inherently Connected, And That The Only Driving Force In Anyone's Life Is Entropy. The Second Is That Everything Pretty Much Stays The Same (more Or Less) And That Everything Is Completely Connected, Even If We Don't Realize It.

It Feels So Exhausting To Be So Bad At Something I Loved So Much.

Seeing No Resolution To My Existential Recognition Of Loss, I Decide To Eat Lunch.