stillfugue

I visited with one of my favorite people on earth yesterday, and she explained to me what causes so much of my suffering – A certain type of idealism and an inability to escape singularity of focus.

She could perceive that I was having difficulty deciphering what this means and what I can do about it. She knows I love great books and she said that I was carrying on a bit like Anna Karenina.  I trust she meant the part before suicide becomes the good option, and she wasn’t suggesting that I was acting like a female.  She also assured me that one of my over favorite women in the world, a target of the strongest of my affections, may not be as negative as the male protagonist (or is it antagonist?).

Off I went to Amazon and discovered that the masterpiece is free for Kindle folks so I quickly downloaded it.  I’ve started to read it again.  I had forgotten how long it is and the style is clumsy at times, but I am going to discover who I am, discover my most significant faults in one of the greatest masterpieces in fiction.  This is so very exciting to me, but you may not identify.