One thing at last I set myself to do. I said, I will do this, and to do it, to overcome the inertia of this dull body, I resorted to drugs. We only live in patches. We have to take the air or else our thoughts grow sluggish, stupid, run into gulfs and blind alleys. A thousand distractions arise from within and without, and then comes drowsiness and sleep.
Men seem to live for sleep.
For a little while the two remained without speaking. Towards the gulf. My mind is perfectly lucid. It was never clearer. But I know I am drawing towards the vortex.