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A drink, a smoke, maybe the barrel of a shotgun. Sooner or later you stick something back in your big dumb old mouth again. What had Hemingway said? Not this August, nor this September-this year you have to do what you like. Ah, the dreadful patient persistence of addiction, he thought. He wandered back toward his study, puffing away and feeling pleasantly lightheaded. 'It'll probably taste like shit,' he said aloud to the empty house (Mrs Gavin had long since gone home), and set fire to the tip of the cigarette. I Am depressed.Īhead of him, the corn on both sides of the row shook and rustled. The hell with it, he thought, putting a pillow under his neck and another one behind his head. Halfway to the kitchen, he deviated to the long sectional couch by the window-wall in the living room. He was sleeping too much, and sleeping too much was a sign of depression. It would be better, healthier both mentally and physically, to eat some lunch ' read for half an hour or so, and then go for a nice long walk down by the lake. Mort crushed out his cigarette and decided to take a nap. he felt at a loss in a way for which there was perhaps no word. Yet he still felt upset, unsettled, guilty.

BELAJAR BAHASA JEPANG TV

The worst was that dismaying, disorienting sense of being outside yourself, somehow-just an observer looking through dual TV cameras with blurry lenses. For every step he took forward, the entrance to the hall seemed to retreat a step, and it occurred to Mort, not for the first time, that hell was probably like the way you felt after sleeping too long and too hard on a hot afternoon. Mort walked slowly toward the telephone table in the front hall, plodding like a man in a diver's suit walking in the bed of a river against the current, his head thumping slowly, his mouth tasting like old dead gopher-shit. And when the knives, glittering in the hot sun of this huge secret garden Mort turned to run, but a hand-Amy's, he was sure-seized him by the belt and pulled him back. Yeah, it'll be him, all right-the one person in the whole wide world I shouldn't be talking to with my guard down and one half of my mind feeling unbuttoned from the other half.

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