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Kindle Notes & Highlights
‘Purpose of life is unknown, and hence way to be is hidden from the eyes of living critters. Who can say if perhaps the schizophrenics are not correct? Mister, they take a brave journey. They turn away from mere things, which one may handle and turn to practical use; they turn inward to meaning. There, the black-night-without-bottom lies, the pit. Who can say if they will return? And if so, what will they be like, having glimpsed meaning? I admire them.’
A voice in his mind said, Gubble gubble gubble, I am gubble gubble gubble gubble. Stop, he said to it. Gubble, gubble, gubble, gubble, it answered. Dust fell on him from the walls. The room creaked with age and dust, rotting around him.
Gubble, gubble, gubble, the room said. The Gubbler is here to gubble gubble you and make you into gubbish.
the music blared up and deafened him, roared through the room, spilling over the walls, the furniture, lashing at the ajar kitchen door,
attacking everyone and everything in sight.
Gubble me more, she said. Gubble gubble gubble me, put your gubbish into me, into my gubbish, you Gubbler. Gubble gubble, I like gubble! Don’t stop. Gubble, gubble gubble gubble, gubble!
