I just realized that we all might have different copies of Notes; therefore, let me make sure we are all on the same page. For Wednesday, at the start of class everyone should have read up to part two of chapter two. Start thinking about how chapter one and chapter two are different—is chapter one our narrator’s manifesto and chapter two the manifestation of those thoughts and his call to action? If you have any questions—please, please, please, send me an email, find me tomorrow, or throw up a smoke signal.
Hope everyone checks this and is having a good snow day…ok time to get back to shoveling.
“The hero, or rather anti-hero as Dostoyevsky calls him, of the text is a man turned in upon himself, a man of heightened awareness and self-consciousness, who sensitivity to slights drives him alternately to retreat into his corner, his underground, and to revenge himself for his humiliations by humiliating others.” How is our nameless narrator humiliating others and how is this a ‘heroic’ act? Can a man chastised by his generation and country be a hero? Is our narrator an example of Thoreau’s thought, “to be great is to be misunderstood?”
OR
The narrator deconstructs his society by breaking its inhabitants into two types of people—men of action vs. men of thought. From his isolation, musings about his liver, and introspective thoughts, it is clear that he is a thinking man; thus, why would he say, “I swear to you that to think too much is a disease, a real, actual disease.” How is thinking a disease? And is our narrator suffering from this illness? Do all artists, rebels, misfits suffer this disease and is this the reason why they take “up the pen?”
More questions to come tomorrow--remember you need to publish two posts of three hundred words by Friday.
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Notes from the underground
Ok, so I'm going with the second question, how is thinking a disease?
I'm going to add some quotes probably with page numbers, but since my copy is different, I will say now that I am using the penguin classics edition. Just incase.
Thinking is a disease because once it starts, it doesn't stop… the thoughts are plaguing because they nag and don't go away…
Many times, Dostoyevsky writes in parenthesis. These are usually examples or side thoughts of his fears of judgment. Even on the first page, he says "(A poor witticism; but I won't cross it out. When I wrote it down, I thought it would seem very pointed: now, when I see that I was simply trying to be clever and cynical, I shall leave it on purpose)" (15).
There are better examples later, but this even shows that his thinking plagues him. First of all, he is so paranoid about what people will think of his writing, that he goes back into that page and writes an explanation for what he said in parenthesis! In this way, his thinking has become a disease because he cannot just write something and let go of what he said or stop thinking of how others might judge him. He is very sensitive.
On the next page, he does this again, only not in parenthesis…
"You think now I'm making some sort of confession to you, asking forgiveness, don't you? … I'm sure you do… but I assure you it’s all the same to me if you do think so" (16).
Again, there is this constant sort of thinking about what other people think, this reaction of fear and assumption that he is being judged… he pretends that it is all the same to him, but the fact that he brought it up, that he thinks the reader, the general "you " is judging him, shows that he is very sensitive about it and really cares a lot what his readers think of him.
Therefore, his thinking disease is from thoughts that plague him endlessly. Yet, on page 19, his condition gives him pleasure, which is probably why he takes up the pen. It is part of the disease, and it is fed on writing… perhaps it is more of an addiction, or a vice than a disease? I am sure he says this somewhere… but I can’t remember what page.
I think by writing this book Dostoyevsky is considered a man suffering from the disease of thought. As he compares men of thought to men of action, he makes those of action out to be normal, unintelligent and lazy. However, as he criticizes them in his own favor, he also displays a certain jealousy of their capabilities, making him seem almost hypocritical. "Well, sirs, it is just such an ingenuous man that I regard as the real, normal man....He is stupid." He later goes on to say, "Oh, if I were doing nothing only out of laziness. Lord, how I'd respect myself then."
I do believe that all artists, rebels and misfits suffer from the disease of thought. The overwhelming process of thought and consciousness is that which causes us to question, to rebel, and to create. Dostoyevsky is aware of the disease he suffers from. Although he realizes the intelligence that he holds over those of action, he expresses uneasiness about his lack of action. It seems as though life would just be easier if he accepted everything "beautiful and lofty."
I believe the disease Dostoyevsky is referring to is also inclusive of over-thinking, which would entail the extreme superstitions which he knows better not to have, but cannot help himself anyway. "Taunting myself with the utterly futile consolation that it is even impossible for an intelligent man to become anything, and only fools become something." Although funny, this excerpt is very identifiable for me. It seems that there is always a time when your hard work does not pay off, and the slacking of those around you does. This quote I think also proves some of Beth's points about his sensitivity and paranoia, the lack of self-respect and self worth. "I am as insecure or as touchy as a hunchback or a dwarf."
"How can a man of consciousness have the slightest bit of respect for himself?" The insecure, non-conforming, hypocritical and self-challenging nature of thinkers is what makes them in my opinion, all sufferers of this disease. The questioning of society through art, rebellion and writing seems to be the only way of expressing those feelings and thoughts that cannot be so ignorantly and easily acted upon.
Second question:
Our narrator begins his tale by immediately informing the reader of an illness that he attributes to his liver. It does not take long for the reader to discover that this disease has nothing to do with his liver, but rather with his mind. His disease is a disease brought about by excessive thought. It is evident that the narrator is a suffering from this thought related disease because of the way that these initial sections of the book are structured. The narrator seems to be rambling as he stumbles through topics involving his work, his lifestyle, and his disease.
"I have been living like this for a long time now - about twenty years. I am forty." For many years our narrator has looked at the world, analyzed it and then thought about it. Both the world and the human race have flaws and the more that one thinks about these topics, the bleaker ones outlook on life becomes, so in this way thought can be a disease. "I am speaking seriously: I should certainly have known how to find pleasure in it, the pleasure, of course, of despair, but despair can hold the most intense sorts of pleasure when one is strongly conscious of the hopelessness of one's position." Our narrator understands his life and understands the world around him and that is why he is living in his corner with his bleak outlook on life.
If thinking too much is considered to be a disease one immediately imagines the lives of people like Beethoven, Poe, and other great "artists, rebels, and misfits". The stories of the many brilliant men driven insane by their own thoughts and ideas. People who, like our narrator, are forced to live their lives against what is considered to be normal because of this disease. They pick "up the pen" and create for the same reason that our narrator creates, to take the thoughts that are filling his head and to put them into some concrete form of expression. The words of the narrator are confusing and inconsistent, but really it is just his attempt to explain his thoughts on life to the reader.
Elliott Smith for example, is an artist who had what could be considered a "thinking disease" in the form of severe depression, alcoholism, and drug addiction. He was a very intelligent person whose life was plagued by sadness. His answer was to pick "up the pen" and to write music. His suffering and his thoughts about the world are all left in his recordings. After committing suicide, Smith still left a large collection of compositions for people to listen to and to interpret. For some reason Elliott Smith was someone that I thought of as I was brainstorming this assignment.
"I got a question mark
You got a need to always take some shot in the dark
I don't have to make pretend the picture I'm in is totally clear
You think that all things have a way they ought to appear
'Cos you know you know you know you know
You know you know you know you know
You know I don't
I dream
Don't know what you mean"
-Elliott Smith
In asking “How is thinking a disease?”, I believe that the most important two words of Dostoevsky’s quote have been left out. The true sickness is “to think too much.” Thinking our way around an unpleasant thought, tricking ourselves into the idea that we can truly unthink anything, is the disease. Dostoevsky’s “Notes From the Underground” was revolutionary in that it was free, uncensored, and ongoing thought that was willingly shared. The author introduces the reader to himself first by saying that he “is a sick man.” That sickness is man’s constant effort to hide what he feels from himself. Sometimes, I believe that we’re afraid of who we are and what we really think. So we lie to ourselves first, and once we start to believe those lies just a little bit we begin spreading them around. Writing something honest, without pausing to decide what is acceptable thought, puts those ideas that we refuse to face right in front of us. It makes us see how ugly or tiresome or daunting those thoughts are and forces us to either face them or try to change.
Writers and artists and musicians take “up the pen” in an attempt to make some sense of “that hell of unsatisfied desires turned inward…that fever of oscillations, or resolution determined for ever and repented of again a minute later.” However, when putting pen to paper, we balk. We believe that what we initially want to write will only make things worse. So we keep thinking, until we think our way past the truth and into a cover-up. With pen in hand, we set out to discover ourselves, but only end up generating more confusion. “I swear to you, gentlemen,” says Dostoevsky, “there is not one thing, not one work of what I have written that I really believe. That is, I believe it, perhaps, but at the same time I feel and suspect that I am lying like a cobbler.”
Maybe a genuinely true thought makes us uncomfortable. Maybe a nakedly honest thought is something we can only write for ourselves, because, in sharing it with others, we cannot help but change it slightly. Dostoevsky is trying, at least, to not only admit this fear to us but also to himself. Mountains of how-to books and hoards of schools and professors will tell us that, if we just keep thinking things over, we’ll eventually understand something. But what if that process of contemplation is driving us continually further from any truth? Ernest Hemingway once said that “all you have to do is write one true sentence”, but I think you have to start with allowing yourself to accept a truth that you keep trying to think your way out of.
I’m going to try and answer the second question even though I still think I’m not quite grasping the story as best as I should.
I completely agree with Dostoyevsky in his assessment that thinking is a disease. The basic part of categorizing people into men of action and men of thought made sense to me. I know it’s cliché to say “ignorance is bliss” but it really is true. It’s much easier for oneself to not be aware of their actions and the consequences or any aspects of their lives that require thinking. It’s difficult to assess yourself and your own faults, and then have to live with that. Life becomes a constant struggle to reverse what you’re thinking and change the course of things. The problem that thinkers face is: where does it stop? Once you get thinking about something you cannot just turn that off when you want to, it becomes a manifestation in your mind. That makes thinkers look crazy but I don’t mean it that way, I just mean having a heightened awareness is like a shadow that follows you everywhere. And isn’t it said that a lot of geniuses are crazy? ….Or maybe I just made that up.
Dostoyevsky makes note of one of the ways thinking is a disease by saying, “Why is it that it always had to happen, as if on purpose, in those moments, yes, in those very same moments, when I was most capable of recognizing all the subtle beauties of the ‘highest and best’, as we used to say, I could not only fail to recognize them, but could actually do such ugly, repulsive things as…” This to me relates to our realization of opposites, which comes with the disease of thinking. If you are fully aware of the person you are, you are also equally aware of the person you are not. These thoughts overcome you just as much as the ones about who you are, and you are more susceptible to giving in to the temptations that come with such thoughts.
Without thinkers, the course of history would be dramatically different. No one would strive to change the “natural” progression of things and stray away from what is considered “normal”. Although one thing that describes us as humans is our innate ability to think and assess things, doing so is actually considered unnatural in the world. People like to make the point of distinguishing humans from animals by using one basic element: our consciousness of life which is one of our biggest gifts and greatest burdens. People preach about the “natural laws” of this world and certain traditions and values that have been instilled in our country so long. It’s our natural habit to act with animalistic qualities; that is doing without thinking and not using that part of us that distinguishes us from the animals. Those who challenge these ideals and actually think are criticized are not respected for their craft. This relates to what we talked about on the first day and that quote about straying the path and going against the grain. Not just our schools, but our world is an institution that deters you from creatively thinking and doing something that could challenge the power of those in charge. It’s much easier to hold a place in society of blind obedience, where you just do whatever you know, and listen to whatever you hear without analyzing it further. It’s much more difficult to be the person, the thinker, surrounded by people of action, that has the obligation to think about things to other people don’t have to. Thinking is not only a disease within oneself, but it’s a national epidemic. Our country and the whole world struggle daily with new discoveries and previously unheard of thoughts that threaten to alter the “natural” ways of our current way of life. While thinking is a disease, I believe it’s a necessary one. I think our world needs people to challenge what is accepted and bring about new ideas.
I definitely believe the narrator is suffering from the thinking disease. He says he does a lot of things, such as refusing treatment for his liver, out of spite. This is sort of like an ‘eff you’ to the system, except he doesn’t even know what the system is that he wants to spite. This is certainly a problem with thinkers, ones who want to rebel against everything that the majority of the people naturally do just to prove how original and against the grain they are. I might be unfairly judging the narrator this way, but I can’t help but get the sense that he is this way. He constantly has to prove how wrong the reader is about him, and how he is not what you would expect him to be like. He even made an example of how he lied about being a bad civil servant and said, “I was simply playing a game with the officer and my other callers; in reality I never could make myself malevolent. I was always conscious of many elements showing the directly opposite tendency.” The narrator admits that he is always fully aware of certain things he could do, but strives to do the opposite, what people don’t expect from him.
I don’t consider myself an artist, rebel or misfit so I can’t say with complete confidence that they suffer from the thinking disease and take up the pen because of this. I sort of described rebels in my previous paragraph; the people who constantly strive to go against ‘the system’ and are perpetually aware of whether every one of their actions is fulfilling this duty. I don’t think it’s unfair to say that artists also suffer from this disease, or else they wouldn’t be able to produce this art. Creating and analyzing art takes more than a simple mind; it takes a type of thinking that isn’t natural with everybody. I think everyone has to try in some way to produce art, and they have to think about it, even if this comes easier to some than others. So I guess what I’m saying is I would agree that generally all of these types of people suffer from the thinking disease, but this post is already unbearably long so I probably shouldn’t keep going.
I am writing on the second one-
How is thinking a disease? I think this statement ties together with a hypochondriac. I think that he’s trying to say that if you think too much about something you’ll trick your mind into thinking you have a disease. If a hypochondriac has a tummy ache they may take that to thinking they have some sort of serious disease. Take out narrator, for instance, he has told us that he is very sick within the first few sentences of Notes From The Underground. This is a true disease and because he has ignored it maybe it will prolong the disease from killing him. Thinking is truly a disease in itself. Is our narrator suffering form this illness I think that the fact that he has not gone to a doctor wants to lead me to he’s not suffering. However, I think the fact that he hasn’t seen a doctor means he truly doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He is in this way, his own form of a hypochondriac. I don’t think that all artists suffer from disease. However, I do think that the ones that do find a sort of therapy in writing and its turns into a journal life completions type things. I think that a big chunk of writers or artists find themselves consumed in some sort of depression or overjoyed happiness, if this weren’t true they wouldn’t write so well. A story has to come from an idea or a passion. These are only created through life experiences. I think that a majority of artists suffer from some sort of illness because that’s what fills books with richness.
You said since there were no new questions to answer the other ones so I'll answer the first one using the reading for tonight.
As I read this reading, I started to feel a little bad for him. I know he’s supposed to be an anti-hero and we aren't suppose to like him but I just have to sympathize with him. I mean he basically invited himself to a get together that the people didn't seem to want him at and he didn't have the money to go to. He also gets off of work 2 hours early to get ready. I mean he doesn't really have friends and it sounds like he wants friends. Also, the more the story goes on the more it seems that he's very insecure. Although it was when he was younger he says, "After we left school he made some effort to keep in touch with me, and I did not resist, because I was flattered by it." Normal people would probably loose touch and try not to talk to someone if they didn't like them but since he doesn't really have anyone else, he tries. I think it's also because someone is finally making an effort towards him and he's not used to it.
In response to Thoreau's comment "to be great is to be misunderstood", I'm not sure if our character is necessarily great but he's definitely misunderstood which results in him insecure ness and maybe in result of this, he writes to deal with the loneliness of his life. I think that when he said that he hates everyone earlier in the book, it was him thinking if he said it it would come true and that's the reason why he doesn't have friends is because he chooses not to. We often tend to do that in these situations, say it's because we want it. I know he's done some things and that's why he's lonely. I just feel so bad for him in the reading. He's just so lonely and sad; I think we need to find him friends.
I have frequently heard that the best advice ever given was to not think too much. At first, I questioned this, for thinking had always amounted to hard work to me, which amounted to success. After reconsidering this idea and our narrator from Notes of the Underground, he makes it clear that thinking can certainly become a disease, using plenty of contradictions and doubts in his ideas. He does what some others may think of as flip-flopping and lying, when ultimately, it is not the audience that is being lied to, but he lies to himself in doubting his emotions and instincts. He alienates himself from his own beliefs of what is right and wrong and what will be accepted or rejected by society, who, as some of my feller classmates have mentioned, forms a sort of invisible stone wall.
The stones of this wall consist of the natural laws of the world that "cannot be changed" by men of action. To the narrator, men of action will strive towards a goal or towards what they believe is success until they are faced with a mathematical or scientific dilemma. Because they believe that these are concrete laws, they choose not to battle them or contradict them. However, to the narrator, these laws are ones that men have created themselves, and if one believes in the law, then it exists. If the opposite were true, virtually anything is possible. What lies beyond the wall is what some may call "enlightenment," or "nirvana," or even put as "truth." The narrator is torn by a number of things, and the prime example of that here is that he is not sure whether such truth comes from a universal law that applies to every human being or if it comes from himself. He lies by saying that he has free will, when he is really trapped by the boundaries of what society will accept. He is trapped alone in his own mind, fearing rejection by society's opinions and therefore cannot develop his own morals or distinguish wrong from right. Knowing what is right is the first step to recognizing the truth within oneself, one that is not set in stone as a universal standard.
Art is one of the tools used to knead into a bottled up opinion as a tangible feeling; connections with others can help people see that they may not be as alone as they think they are. Two people may not agree on a certain topic, but they still experience the same human emotions, and quite possibly through making this connection and considering each others' ideas it is that they realize they are not the only ones completely torn.
The narrator struggles with this disease constantly and is unsure of emerging from the underground and from complete isolation. However, I believe this is something that everyone goes through at one point or another in their lives. In fact, it may not even be a point, but it is quite possibly an ongoing internal battle against oneself. It is not only adolescents suffering from this disease and other identity crises, but even adults can do so too, such as our author. I, like some of my feller classmates, sympathize with him feeling so much torture in being forty years old and still not having figured out his disease yet (no, I don't believe he sees the disease in its entirety). I am not forty, but I can clearly remember having a fear of turning forty and realizing that I have not done anything I wanted to do in my life. He must train his mind to trust the natural emotions and instincts that come about instead of pushing towards some imaginary level of acceptance from society.
Response to question #2-
In the discussion during class, it was mentioned that the narrator is truly a thinking man of action. Although he is a thinking man due to his thoughts which we are reading, because he is conveying these thought to the reader and writing them down he is taking them to put them into action. If a person, such as the narrator, themselves does not act upon what they are saying, if they tell someone else that other person can form their own idea off of the original and then put it into action. Therefore, the narrator is being pro-active by getting his ideas past just his mind and putting them down onto paper.
One definition of disease can be as followed: any harmful, depraved, or morbid condition, as of the mind or society. (Dicitonary.com) The narrator within the text has a mind condition. It's harmful to him because it seems that his mind is over-active and there for he qualifies for having a disease under the above definition. He's plagued with the fact that he is so absorbed within the world of his mind that outright action can not take place. He's driven to contradicting himself because of his thoughts which come in such abundance. This isn't really a harmful disease in such as way that it could kill him by shutting down inner systems which are vital to live off of, but it could have a negative impact if he is only thought about as a thinking man and took no action like writing it all down.
I don't feel as though every artist, rebel, and misfit hold this disease. I think once ideas are being conveyed to others through any medium that the disease is lessened. Once the mind starts to crank with idea after idea and those ideas are being put forth to be subject to discussion, then what the artists, rebels, and misfits are doing becomes a passion. They have to find some pleasure in releasing the "disease". Like stated above, the difference of keeping it within and releasing it is the difference between a purely a thinking man and a man of action.
I think that thinking is a disease, is that a way of rebelling against what has been taught? Is this way of justifying the fact that he refuses to participate in normal human activities. In the end he is still just sitting in his own little corner.That its self can be considered rebelling, that is not what we as functioning members of society are programed to do. By simply stating that plain consciousness, or thinking is a disease he then is able to look beyond what has been shoved in his face his entire life.Now that is living his life that makes no impact on any one other than the people that get the butt end of his power abuse of his position.
This is why I think that he has such a hard time being able to let go of his thoughts he puts down onto paper, he spends his whole day practically bullying people, yet then is paranoid about what strangers think about what he writes? This to me is confusing, is someones thought more personal than actions? Is what he does to those people just an outward projection to truly keep inside what is closest to him? What intrigues me the most is that he still lives inside his head, a man who has nothing to do all day besides sit in hism corner surely has pondered those same question I have just presented.
One may think that he has a classic case of not being able to see passed not only the wall that he has been banging his horns against, but be able to tear down the wall that he himself has put infront of his own minds progression.
This just plays with the hypocritical writings in the first parts of this book, the fact that he himself in his stream of thought double crosses his own words.
In the end I truly feels that he is his own worst enemy, he can only see the sickness that he thinks he has, and by thinking more isn't that, in his mind making him sicker?
I think that thinking is a disease, is that a way of rebelling against what has been taught? Is this way of justifying the fact that he refuses to participate in normal human activities. In the end he is still just sitting in his own little corner.That its self can be considered rebelling, that is not what we as functioning members of society are programed to do. By simply stating that plain consciousness, or thinking is a disease he then is able to look beyond what has been shoved in his face his entire life.Now that is living his life that makes no impact on any one other than the people that get the butt end of his power abuse of his position.
This is why I think that he has such a hard time being able to let go of his thoughts he puts down onto paper, he spends his whole day practically bullying people, yet then is paranoid about what strangers think about what he writes? This to me is confusing, is someones thought more personal than actions? Is what he does to those people just an outward projection to truly keep inside what is closest to him? What intrigues me the most is that he still lives inside his head, a man who has nothing to do all day besides sit in hism corner surely has pondered those same question I have just presented.
One may think that he has a classic case of not being able to see passed not only the wall that he has been banging his horns against, but be able to tear down the wall that he himself has put infront of his own minds progression.
This just plays with the hypocritical writings in the first parts of this book, the fact that he himself in his stream of thought double crosses his own words.
In the end I truly feels that he is his own worst enemy, he can only see the sickness that he thinks he has, and by thinking more isn't that, in his mind making him sicker?
What does it mean to be a hero? My interpretation of a hero is not someone wearing tights and a cape. A hero is someone who puts themselve on the front line, challenges people to look beyond what we perscieve to be real.
To be chastised by your own generation;what you are thinking and doing right now does not fit in with what the rest of us are doing, so you must be wrong, you cant be right...can you?
To be rejected, to be looked upon as an outcast to me symbolizes that you have to be doing something right, you getting a reaction.When you get people to have a reaction it means that you are hitting enough of their nerve endings to make them come out right and hate you. To be hated is to be remembered, for someone to truly put the effort into hating the very fiber of your being, they obviously have obsorbed enough of what you have been trying to say to be able to form that opinion.
These people are living in the same side of the wall as Dostoevsky.
What he means by being the ani-hero is that now inmhis present moment hes not seen as an admiribal man, he lives in a corner. Yet who to say that heros and anti-heros dont share some of the same qualities? Whos to say who is or isnt a hero,wouldnt that just be the wall talking for me?
This is what I feel he is truing to transcend through his writing.This is also why i think that in the first part of the book he allways seems to be contradicting himself, he wants the reader to decide for themselves, he allows himself to seem to be outrageous on purpose in order to stir the brain pot, to stike cords with people and get them to stop being herd animals and allow yourself to seperate yourself from the pack and find your own answers, to say that two plus two really is five.
I feel that to truly be able to get anything from this book you have to disagree with him often, and even despise his writing at times, by disagreeing it mean that you have an individual opinion, and that is what he is trying to achieve.
This story starts with the beginning.If you go to an AA meeting anywhere in the country, they will start every meeting with this statement: “You, First, Must Admit There's a Problem.” Every person in the room will stand up, introduce themselves and state their problem. This is not necessarily coming to terms with oneself at this very moment, but in reality it is the beginning of a long road to a healthy, independent lifestyle. This story starts with the statement “I am a sick man…” and the narrator goes on from there with a stream of consciousness explanation of why he thinks he is a sick man, why he feels diseased and held down and what is preventing him from letting go. His sickness is actually thoughts. Thoughts are dangerous little intellectual activities that can branch off from each other to create an endless tunnel of analyzation. The analytical thought can be overbearing. The thoughts need to in some way end so that they do not interrupt a persons life. So in some way, a person has to figure out how to cease these thoughts and in one way, they do this by making assumptions. Assumptions are a great way to stop what you are thinking about. They stop the “why” questioning and just put it to and end. In this situation, our narrator is assuming the thoughts of the public and society. He says things and contradicts himself in the middle of a thought just because he wants to cut them short or compromise his mind to please others. And even if he gets past this fact of changing his mind, he is always thinking about what we, the readers are going to think. For example he says things like “Don’t laugh, it’s true” after serious statements as if he assumes that society is laughing at him. This also has to do with self doubt which is probably rooted in thought which makes it a part of his sickness. The only way for the narrator to cure his sickness is to take action. This is where the “thinker” vs. the “doer” I believe that the narrator is both a thinker and a doer. His thoughts are his disease and his writing is the cure. Writing is the doer part and thoughts are obviously the thinker part of him. As he writes this story, his ideas and thoughts turn from a blob of, [as Mr.K would say, “verbal diarrhea”] into more clear concrete concepts. He talks about this wall and one part of this wall that he has built up may be just the fact that he has trouble conveying clear ideas to people. Hopefully by the end of this book we can clearly understand his writing and his disease will be cured.
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