Reception

He had resolved not to do some certain thing anymore and then he had thought Heh, wait a minute, it doesn't really matter one way or another whether I do X, Y or fucking Z. And then he walloped himself on the side of the head with an open palm, something he was wont to do in those days when he became so completely disgusted by his own inconsistency and navel-gazing tendencies. Some pain, something, nothing much. A moment of vague excitement quickly replaced by the usual deflated laziness, a complete laziness regarding existence. Not even anything as violent or passionate as despair.