You’ve never really accepted the bathos of life, Shiva – that’s your problem. The prose of the world. Which is why you can’t actually write it, real prose, the sort that people actually want to read. Which is why you’re all hyperbole and exclamation marks. You can’t bear life that is less than apocalyptic.
You’ll never finish the idiotbuch. There’ll never be a final page.
Because the book of life will be idiotic. It’ll be just more of this. The book of life is full of the prose of life, which runs on forever. And it’s not even a farce. It’s Sensible. It’s Orderly.
Work in Progress 