the blankness of his life leads him to seek out experiences that are more – what? extreme? ludicrous? challenging? – We laugh – he doesn’t even know! Not even that. He is trying – or he thinks he is trying – to do something wonderful. Or at least, unusual. Or, with luck, just better than despair. But though the street is wet and the rain at a shallow angle and the wind thinks about destroying the city – conditions have deteriorated badly and he is not prepared for them – he has not found it. Because the winter is not cold enough. He seeks this thing, this extremity, that he doesn’t know, but the winter is too warm for him. He hasn’t discovered this. He does not know and he cannot imagine. And so the blankness of his life remains unaffected by the interesting? the bizarre? the confused? the remarkable? the absence of life?