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Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.rb After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,$#M we ourselves flash and yearn,n-6 and moreover my mother told me as a boy)*-Z (repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're boreda$1eOr means you have no_:uP ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ Z Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no_ inner resources, because I am heavy bored.X Peoples bore me,^ literature bores me, especially great literature,Sb/, Henry bores me, with his plights & gripesMQ as bad as Achilles,v; ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ V. who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.,d And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a dragJ[ and somehow a dog.A has taken itself & its tail considerably awaylx:s into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving{ behind: me, wag.;/)q0 ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ sxO For the poem, http://www.pith.net/pithfiles/ds14.htm?N ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ e/xCq, Polar Bear, Art Wolfew4 ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ V ========================================================XE ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ ^U
I ove this poem :) vivi/
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