exporting loneliness

Two more days to the start of the worrying wait for the O level results! Earlier, I hastily assembled a reading list to get me through this volatile period of sharp vicissitudes and psychosomatic turmoil, but realised that I'll never get through the pages of confusion stemming from the indulgent use of streams of consciousness that is Ulysses. Here's a gratuitous upload of a picture of Marilyn Monroe reading Ulysses.


It's those moments where you go: if Marilyn Monroe could (insert intellectual activity), so can I.
(yes even though the photo looks rather posed)

Anyway, I'll be reading The Bell Jar once again (after a conversation with Judith about it), one of the Robert Walser books that I've recently bought, and this collection of essays about eating alone, leaving me room to squeeze in another book. Not that anyone would be wildly interested, or anything.

I think I shall now go stare at the ceiling, to prepare myself for some corny but necessary mental carpe diem thing tomorrow morning.