No one told me “Anatomy of a Fall” was about autofiction. I went to see it innocently over the long weekend because my roommate had said it was good. Although they had every other kind of expert in the courtroom, they did not, interestingly enough, have an expert in literary theory. They were reduced to bickering over whether autofiction is actually reality or fiction. Unfortunately for me, I have already covered this issue in depth.
I haven’t bought anything this weekend because I am anti consumerism (and mostly shop secondhand anyway). The only thing I really want anyway is prohibitively expensive, even with the sales. I daydream sometimes about what it would be like if I came into money, what I would do with it. The only thing I know with certainty is that I would pay off my debt, firstly, and then secondly, go out and buy a lot of Nensi Dojaka. Almost n…