In which I feel weighted down by the forward motion of relentless time, and wish only for a guide book.
In which I talk about tonight’s Horror Night selection, The Unnamable (1998).
In which I am unsure how much I am missing, and how much I should seek.
In which I find my life a little boxed in, and look for other boxes which I can open.
In which I think about a very small thing that will be completely mystifying to some of my characters.