What Sort Of An Age Is This

This Is America, You Live In It, You Let It Happen. Let It Unfurl.

For A Moment She'd Wondered If The Seal Around Her Sockets Were Tight Enough To Allow The Tears Simply To Go On And Fill Up The Entire Lens Space And Never Dry. She Could Carry The Sadness Of The Moment With Her That Way Forever, See The World Refracted Through Those Tears, Those Specific Tears, As If Indices As Yet Unfound Varied In Important Ways From Cry To Cry.

[oedipa Maas] Awoke At Last To Find Herself Getting Laid.

Let The Peace Of This Day Be Here Tomorrow When I Wake Up.

He Decided That We Suffer From Great Temporal Homesickness For The Decade We Were Born In.