Out of the Depths: More on Oscar Wilde

I keep telling myself that I’m going to take a break from the blog, but I find it a soothing distraction from having to process feelings. I’m in Edinburgh now. The way the city is lit at night — castle windows draped in lamplight, church statues carved out in shadow — reminds me of Macbeth. I feel as if I should change my name to Duncan, grow a beard, and pretend I’m a ghost. One crucial mistake I have made on this trip is choosing to read Oscar Wilde’s Prison Writings. I think it might be the worst book in the world to consume whilst sad. Remarkable as it is as a meditation on art and suffering, the entire trajectory is, obviously, downward and desolate. There is no escape for writer or for reader. <a href="https://medium.com/@jasonvillemez/out-of-the-depths-more-on-oscar-wilde-9adf82d1e4fc">Read More</a>