…wishes importance bequeathed, showered, inherited, smack-gobbled, deep-fried, flash-frozen and all semblances and sorts of rained down on his slumped shoulders, shuffling around a cold apartment on a warm day, thinking of something, anything, everything to do other than sitting down and making self Self. That’s what you’d call a third-life crisis when the Enron silliness of the quarter-life gives way to something longer, deeper, and slower. Scared of being ignored, more scared of doing anything to not be ignored. I think I’ll have another drink.
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