10,000 lines, "I must strive to free myself of the compulsion to sell Mikeachim inexpensive yet not entirely necessary computer hardware and software, like a confused half-competent Robin Hood (taking money from the poor and failing to give it to anyone else). And yes, this is still the same sentence".

Make it 20,000. (I spend the late afternoon playing this instead of being productive).

The tragedy of writing. The second you thought of it, it starts to fall to bits, and by the time you get it out onto the page it's probably just rubble. So it's easy to spend the rest of your life trying to shore it up.

The tragedy of writing. The second you thought of it, it starts to fall to bits, and by the time you get it out onto the page it's probably just rubble. So it's easy to spend the rest of your life trying to shore it up.

I wish I'd had teachers like me. Except, if I had, would I have turned out like them? One for the philosophers, and in the meantime here's 1,000 lines for enjoying being taught by academics whose only perk in a thankless job is your obvious misery.

"I must endeavor to facilitate the manifestation of deep psychological torment whether it be present or not, in order to give my teacher a single reason to get out of bed every morning."