Words fail to communicate.
Insufficient.
Head throbs.
I want to live.
Music does this to me.
And nature.
And being surrounded by God.
My life my life my life
How does it pass!
Best not waste it on trivial things.
How it rushes by!
I like to wave as the clouds go by.
And other sentences form nonsense in my head--
nonsense—it is all nonsense.
But not this feeling-
this LIFE I need to instill in my characters.
I hate them; they can never be real enough.
Nothing is real
except truth
, which is.. somewhat unknowable..
Therefore what do I have?
A groaning stomach, aching head; restless mind & weary body..
I am a writer..
but I cannot write. I am an actor who cannot
act…
My body is so heavy. Sleep I will?
And let more life slip me by?
Perhaps I will live in my dreams…
where ALL my memories are safe…
unrecorded, safe: so long as I remain alive, all
of me is preserved.. but when I die.. Will my memories
come with me?
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