My soul is crying for some intellectual companionship. Administrative assistance, in all its glorious monotony, tends to bleed the mind of all constructive thought and forces your reflexes into a non-stop train ride of chop and punch, file and type, list and stock.
In other news, Dorian Gray is proving to be Wilde’s tedious indulgence in his thoughts on hedonism, empiricism and romanticism.
Nothing very surprising from such a flamboyant fag.
