Average House of Leaves chapter be like:
"Navidson you bitch ass motherfucker, get away from that door!"
"Type shit," they both said in unison.
This is a prime example of Navidson's Oedipus complex. Just as he longs to enter the depths of his house through the door in his living room, he longs to re-enter the motherly womb¹, to be reborn anew through forces outside his control shaping his life. A further exploration of this topic can be found in Gustav Schmidt's seminal work—
¹ So she was bouncing on it right. Singing a hymn to the god of hedonism with her moans. And it was so fucking wet. It felt less like sex and more like that time in the water park when you were a kid and you finally built up the courage to go on the big slide. But when you're going down the thing it's really fun except there's too much water and you're swallowing it all from laughing so much and you're gasping for air which just makes you gargle more water. And then you're in the pool again and you can't breathe and you're too disorientated to know how to swim and your mom has to pull you from the water and you think to yourself "this is it, this is how it must've felt like to be born."²
If i wasn't so distracted by the ocean of pussy i was drowning in, i could of turned around to see Lude higher than any kite i've ever flown. He straight up couldn't move any more, just lying there; his soul might of just up and left his body.
² Mr. Truant has declined any further comment on this subject matter. –Ed.
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