In Anticipation and Boredom

Going to drive to Baguio tomorrow, so naturally I won't sleep 'till the wee hours of the morning.


T.S.Eliot: The Wasteland. You are a desperate cry
to God, moulded in intricate word-craftmanship.
Your language is controlled, but inside, you
feel empty and are not content with your life.
You see both the world and your inner self as a
waste land: nothing good can come out of it
anyway. People find you difficult to understand
but admire you nevertheless.

Which literature classic are you?
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I think Danton recommended this to me once.

Expect test drive articles with a bleak outlook of the future of automobiles.

"The glorious, mind-numbing howl of the perpendicular, pulsating chambers hark to the deaf ears of the escorts of the Ford Escape Hybrid. The prancing horse, shall fall, owing to its decadent consumption, its Achilles heel."

Lovely.