If you haven’t read that New York Times Sunday Magazine article about Lindsay Lohan and Paul Schraeder yet, you really should. It’s fascinating. On the one hand, it’s one of the most relentlessly detailed portraits of schadenfreude-incarnate. Everything that Lindsay Lohan does is (obviously) crazy and entitled and depressing. But the Schrader stuff is equally interesting, and gets overshadowed both in the article and the conversation by the Lohan stuff when actually his role is almost more important. Here is a man who wrote Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, a film legend, exhibiting the most exaggerated desperation and existential panic you’ve ever seen. He acts as if he’s broke but then the article talks about all the nice hotels he lives in when he’s not in his nice New York apartment. He acts as if he’s out of work, but in his world being out of work means literally that you just sit around and don’t work, which is not as bad as what being out of work means for real human beings. The whole thing is great, go read it. The reason I bring it up here is because it’s also just a really powerful description of the ways in which life can be very long indeed, and how all you can do is hang on as tight as possible and hope that eventually, after all of the ups and downs and the mega-bumps in Sadness Road take you and some of your closest friends to a table in a donut restaurant where you can sing your favorite song from The Lion King soundtrack.

Hang in there, guys.