There Are So Many Ways To Go

I Felt No Shame In These Activities, Because I Understood What Almost No One Else Seemed To Grasp: That There Was Only An Infinitesimal Difference, A Difference So Small That It Barely Existed Except As A Figment Of The Human Imagination, Between Working In A Tall Green Glass Building On Park Avenue And Collecting Litter In A Park. In Fact, There May Have Been No Difference At All.

A Bit Of Theory As We Settle Down For Lunch: The Waiter's Treatment Of Kitty Is Actually A Kind Of Sandwich, With The Bottom Bread Being The Bored And Slightly Effete Way He Normally Acts With Customers, The Middle Being The Crazed And Abnormal Way He Feels Around This Famous Nineteen-year-old Girl, And The Top Bread Being His Attempt To Contain And Conceal This Alien Middle Layer With Some Mode Of Behavior That At Least Approximates The Bottom Layer Of Boredom And Effeteness That Is His Norm.

One Area I Have A Huge Amount Of Trouble In Is Writing About Myself. I Get A Heavy, Almost Depressed Feeling.

This Is The Music Business. 'five Years Is Five Hundred Years' - Your Words.

Structural Dissatisfaction: Returning To Circumstances That Once Pleased You, After Having Experienced A More Thrilling Or Opulent Way Of Life, And Finding That You Can No Longer Tolerate Them.