Happy Ness and the Infinite Jest

Malaise-stricken midweek, I figured the deep emotional rift that had been gnawing at me for much of the last fortnight had to be stopped. Lackadaisical, all days felt like Sundays. Stale, stifling still-lifes of rotten motifs. Lest I risk ruining a hard-earned, functional routine, I sought some kind of psychological renewal in the evergreen artistry of the unconscious. To rekindle my creativity, I…