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Sunday, 26 November 2017
All these foolish words, do you think anyone will want to read them? Have you come to any conclusions worth the sharing? You can never get things straight, words and things, intentions and a basic grasp of the situation here, they are all too slippery for you to hold them in alignment for more than a moment or two. And when you do, it looks different every time. Stumbling around like an amiable and half-blind buffoon, bumping into things, "oh, pardon me", lifting your hat, smiling, squinting, not sure if it was a tree-stump, a horse or a grandmother. And children making fun of you, turning you around, placing irrelevant objects in your outstretched hands or stealing your shoes. All of this because of a certain pomposity, a willing to believe combined with an inveterate habit of taking yourself seriously, of maintaining the brand. And still, in spite of your misadventures, your absurdity, you love the dream, not for where it leads, because it leads nowhere, but for the sheer dreaming.
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