Good Company

i spent five hours today constructing an analytical essay that examines how edgar allen poe accomplishes the dark, eerie atmosphere present in many of his short stories. i probably read 'the fall of the house of usher' six times over the course of this process, and now find myself suffering from a similar 'acuteness of the senses' that plagues the story's central madman, roderick usher. i find often that as i become consumed in literature, i begin to project the primary character's emotions, thoughts, and even physical conditions onto my own personal existence. this is both wonderful and wildly dangerous, particularly when the character buries his sister alive and is ultimately swallowed by his own house.