pliars on my table

We've moved into the postm.odernist writings of B.eckett, S.park, Stop.pard. B.eckett turns one's brain into a bag of nails and sawdust. What's he describing? Reading him is like taking one step forward and two steps back. Where is the protagonist in the narrative? He has disappeared! We have been sucked into one of his thought streams again. Get me out, get me out! Unscramble my head. Untangle the words. Shut up. Stop messin' with my mind. That's a glimpse pf postm.odernism for you. A feckin' world of the persecuted schizophrenics and ardent masturbators.

-quote from friends blog.


i dont read very much of these people. but somehow i connected with those lines.

i love travel programmes.=]