Infinite Jest

Wrung dry. Whacked. Tuckered out. More dead than alive.

‘My bones are ringing the way sometimes people say their ears are ringing, I’m so tired.’ ‘I’m waiting til the last possible second to even breathe. I’m not expanding the cage till driven by necessity of air.’ ‘So tired it’s out of tired’s word-range,’ Pemulis says. ‘Tired just doesn’t do it.’ ‘Exhausted, shot, depleted,’ says Jim Struck, grinding at his closed eye with the heel of his hand. ‘Cashed. Totalled.’ ‘Look.’ Pemulis pointing at Struck. ‘It’s trying to think.’ ‘A moving thing to see.’ ‘Beat. Worn the heck out.’ ‘Worn the fuck-all out is more like.’ ‘Wrung dry. Whacked. Tuckered out. More dead than alive.’ ‘None even come close, the words.’

(INFJ: 100)
Weitere Beiträge
Infinite Jest
So drugs, then