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21 January 2012

I was at the library when I found a handwritten note in between pages 150 and 151 of David Foster Wallace’s The Broom of the System. While reading the note, I was embarassed to find reminders of my own adolescent self. It is nearing five years since I last belonged to that time of youth, but I can’t help but wonder if this variety of existential despair is common to all people who happen to be adolescent, in some manner or other.