I tore the last 80 unread pages off the weighty sled that is Anna Karenina the morning I flew to BKK from AKL and finished it in the air. The ending was satisfying only in that it meant I could stop caring. Here are the reviews I penned in my head as I tried to nod off on the plane:
Dostoyevsky: The only women who will put up with a mentally-overwrought emo twit are whores, and God is rad.
Tolstoy: Bitches be craaaaaazy. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t stop ‘em from cheating on you. Also, God is rad.
Fairly relevant, if you ask me.
I’m back in Auckland now, and I depart for SF tomorrow. I should have written about Thailand, but the country, the city, the people, the beaches and everything else seem beyond description. I’ll try breaking the trip into discrete portions and tackling it piece by piece. But not tonight. Later.