Shannon Ellison’s Reviews > The Nuclear Age > Status Update

I am not myself. It’s a feathery hither-and-thither sensation, like riding music, slipping up and down the scales of my own life.

I noticed how even cobwebs cast shadows. I noticed how geopolitics made no perceptible difference in the movement of dust against a lighted lamp. For me at least, the war was over.

It was mostly blank time, which is to say I can’t remember much — the present never quite became the past.

Finally it starts to pick up and mean something. Shivers reading chapter 6 and listening to Chelsea Wolfe. Between great gatsby and PTSD: the future curves toward the past, then folds back again, seamlessly, and we are locked forever in the ongoing present. Vietnam never seemed so scary and awful before.