Dostoyevsky?

Silencing your phone before enabling Wi-Fi connectivity is an excellent method to save one from unnecessary disappointment. If it's not going to even vibrate when notifications are expected, then it will come as no surprise if it stayed still and nobody left you any messages. The state of indifference it has been set to cannot in any way stir the expectations long scorned upon by cynicism. Even the strength to lift an eyebrow cannot be bothered to yawn.

What have I to offer this evening? A breath of roses reminiscent of yesteryear's honey without a hint of sweetness. Warm enough to soothe a raving conscience, plain enough to neutralise all thoughts to the point where Dostoyevsky can be enjoyed.

Dostoyevsky, is it?

Murakami-sensei is also a fan of Dostoyevsky, is he not? His characters read Dostoyevsky as well. Scraping by, relying on translation projects-- such familiarity. Ah, I quite like how authors are inspired. Reading Crime and Punishment now, I think of my assignment on abjection and how our fitting story line was so unjustly rejected. Abjection, as our character saw it, was all that existed outside her and yet was what swallowed her from within. While Raskolnikov's revulsion was amplified by the very abject act of murder, ours was one brought about by the growing disgust born from the perception of a culture bordered on fear; a growing disgust born from the very fear of the realisation of the fragility of such a culture.

Of course, university only allows mediocrity. Anything beyond that is blasphemy.

If there are moments in my life that are impossible to satisfy, the under fulfillment of this project would undoubtedly be one of the worms that gnaws at the body of wasted achievements. It really annoys me, just thinking about it.

So we are stuck with a script nobody is enthusiastic about. Serving up shit to save grades truly makes spending close to 40K a year on education, I mean, university worth the while. Come to think of it, university serves as an educational institution only in the sense that we learn from it what we must not do in order not to exist as commodities through our contempt for it.

I actually really just wanted to share a passage from the novel and some screenshots from Hong: The Rebel. But here we are, with another lengthy post I'm sure none of you have paid any attention to. Can you find the chicken nugget hidden in the text? I thought not.

There is not chicken nugget.

"For one thing, my spelling's poor, and for another, my German's diabolical. I'm making up more and more as I go along and my only consolation is that it comes out better this way. Who knows, though? Perhaps it comes out worse..."