So who's gonna meet me behind the mall this August?
The fact that no one knows where I am is my only happiness. If only I could prolong this forever! It would be far more just than death. I am empty and futile in every corner of my being, even in my unhappiness.
-Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice
-Anne Michaels, from "Infinite Gradation," originally published in October 2017
Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka
-Charles Bukowski, "cancer," from Come On In!
-Colleen Hoover // Reminders of him
— David Cronenberg, Consumed