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"There are times when the inexpressiveness of life comes near to overwhelming me, when it seems to me we are all asleep or entranced, and but a little way above the still cows who stand munching slowly in the field. Why couldn't we, and why didn't we, talk together?... We fear bathos too much, are shyly decent to the pitch of mania. We have neither the courage of our bodies nor of our souls..." pg. 148
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Tue, August 8, 2006 - 1:51 AM
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I stumble and halt or watch helplessly as it all comes screaming out in a blast of heat and self-death it is all confusion biting broken glass casting about frantically these words cut my lips bleeding and drooling I consider believing that I am right— —or wrong but neither seems to fit 2/14/04
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