the day's research on postcolonial theory uncovers only american books translated into french and an entire bibliography worth of references to be found on lincoln street in santa cruz. i dragged my ass all the way to france to find out that everything i needed was about a quarter mile away from me at any given moment for the last five years. i need another nap.
is this how they all feel, those poor boomerangs. there is absolutely no pride in reaching the climax of your journey to be whipped around, as if by a mean god of irony, and propelled by the force of your own construction right back where you started.
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