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Now weary hands again, now weary legs again, a darkness that will not lift. I laugh, so that the firm walls shift. But now I’m lying, confess: I’m weeping, nonetheless.

Walser / Hamburger

6Too Philosophical

How ghostly in its sinking and rising is my life. To myself I see myself wave and vanish from the waver

As laughter I see myself and then as deepest sadness, then as a wild weaver of words; yet all of it sinks, goes down.

And surely at all times can never have been right. To roam forgotten spaces has always been my plight.

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