Tuesday, July 08, 2008

...I can't go on, I'll go on.

The title is the close of Samuel Beckett's novel The Unnamable. I feel that way this week. Weary. I could talk about why, but what's the point? Everyday a little different. Everyday the same. The temptation is to crawl into bed and stay until I decompose.

...I can't go on, I'll go on.

I'm closing down this blog. Visit my new one, This Beckett Life. An attempt to make more sense of this life...