The fact is that we’re all lonely, of course. Everyone knows this, it’s almost a cliché. So yet another layer of my essential fraudulence is that I pretended to myself that my loneliness was special, that it was uniquely my fault because I was somehow especially fraudulent and hollow. It’s not special at all, we’ve all got it. In spades.
Sidelong glance (fourth wall breaking but where is that wall in this story) at the fractal nature of the story and the FP itself. How many layers of fraudulance is DFW attempting to punch through, only to find the FP folding back upon itself?
