I didn't read Infinite Jest this summer, either.


Being a writer in a world that features Wallace would be like playing basketball in a world that has Michael Jordan, only none of us even know how to play basketball and we're all injured toddlers with broken lacrosse equipment.

and

I know that if we as a society approached depression and mental health with the same dedication and persistence with which we approached drunk driving or smoking or, hell, littering in the past, we'd bury a lot fewer of our brothers and daughters and heroes.

genius. fucking genius.


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