Response to The Waves by Virignia Woolf

"It was a pretty boring day," said Michael. "There was lots of self-reflection and sleeping. Northing actually. Just voids of time spent doing things. Things over and again. Things done before, things done now, things to do later. Abstractness personified. Personality erased and abased. Tons of thinking about life and experiences. Lies to the self and to others. I can't believe I told my mom that I was having a good day. It was more of an average day. I did this and that. Nothing special. Nothing every really that special when it is all just the routine. Can anything ever stand out from a routine."


"Get up, sit down, move around. Actions repeated over and over again with little to no concious deliberation. Sadness, happiness, interest, and boredom all on this mathematical wave expansion table that the computer in the brain moves around and around on the x-y axis grid of my conciousness. Feel this, feel that. Cold, hot, anger...where does all of it come from? Why does looking at the window produce this feeling of loneliness and sterility inside? I can't create the world around me. I can't create anything material, just words on the page, words on the screen, words in my head, words in conversation. The condensed nature of my production swings laboriously over and around my thoughts."