Hey Nostradamus está a revelar-se nas páginas finais um livro penosamente deprimente. Há um sentimento de solidão tão intenso a acompanhar as personagens que torna a leitura quase difícil. Acho que por hoje vou deixá-lo de lado e dedicar-me a outras leituras.
And then there is me, sad little me, living in a dream, staring out the window, never again to find love. With Jason I thought I'd finally played my cards right, and now I'm just one more of those broken, sad people out there, figuring out a year in advance where they can have Easter and Christmas dinner without feeling like a burden or duty to others, cursing the quality of modern movies because it's so hard to fill weeknights with movies when they're all crap, and waiting, just waiting, for those three drinks a night to turn into four - and then, well, then I'll be applying my makeup in the morning, combing my hair, washing my clothes, but it's not really for anyone. I'm alive, but so what.
in Hey Nostradamus!, Douglas Coupland
No comments:
Post a Comment