Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

David came round last Monday, which happened to coincide with a low emotional and physical ebb for me - too much going out, too much doing things, and not enough recharging - which maybe made it kind of a happy or at least apt coincidence that we settled on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to watch, for while it was a bit of a gruelling experience in the state that I was then in, the insane whirligig it plays out wasn't a world removed from my own exhaustion-hued (albeit entirely un-drug affected) take on things. The result, anyway, is that I wasn't left with any coherent sense of the film - just a bewildering series of impressions - which maybe is the way that it would always have taken me anyway. Certainly, the sense of inhabiting the film's world was strong, even overwhelming.