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in hot empty pursuit

I am nearly seven-hundred pages into "Infinite Jest." Some books are so good that they inspire me to continue with my own projects. "Infinite Jest" is so good--and so intimidating--that it inspires paralysis. Lately, when I page through the landscapes of my airline disasters, I ask myself, 'What am I doing?' I will gladly give up this empty pursuit as soon as I can replace it with another empty pursuit--empty in that it won't lead me anywhere outside my skin. It will be empty yet somehow personally fulfilling as it leads me down corridors and stairways as yet undiscovered beneath my skin.

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