I read Don DeLillo's Point Omega this afternoon and hours later I still have no idea what I just read.
Was it a novel? Or a short story?
Was it a postmodern examination of violence?
Was it a paradoxical haiku about slowing time to singular moments while we plunge forward toward greater consciousness - or oblivion?
"The true life is not reducible to words, spoken or written, not by anyone, ever. The true life takes place when we're alone, thinking, feeling, lost in memory, dreamingly self-aware, the submicroscopic moments."