I can't stop looking at this page now that I've changed the colours.
I'm getting increasingly afraid of my paper. I've not been working on it for a week because of
the good news and now I'm lost AND stuck, again. What scares me is that I may be mired in this whirlpool of corrections and rewriting forever, and this paper will never get finished.
Pramoedya Ananta Toer died yesterday. I think of him as the Dostoevsky of the Asian continent. So depressing.