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    To hide, to escape. With the cheaply-measured weights of Tomorrows on my limbs, painted green-blue by the aching vengeance! I should hide - yes, hide in the deep hiding-places of blessed-hearted mothers. Unfold while you can the unknown safety-net to shelter and protect you! - Or in diligent mole mode, digging tunnels of thickening caverns underground: field worms,

    My real lack cannot be complete, cannot be whole: my nagging conscience plays daily question and answer with me, and recognises my lack. - It is the weight of the task that pulls me back: the responsibility of pen and paper keeps calling me back, pulling me back to the sobering consciousness; I cannot yet leave, nor can I yet be part of the contemplative Nothing, 

    in whose kingdom I shall be transformed as a degraded dross, under persistent, unwearied patience! The law of hiding binds me, compels me to forget my humanity, and in the abysses of my selfishness I may seek my own way out! The wounded and broken code-organs of the day are always watching, 

    who is it that, in your mania of persecution, follows you behind your back, obsessed, orphan-murdering? I have deliberately hidden myself in thy heart with my complimentary treasures - that thou mayst always remember me, if thou canst, - yet I could not account for my soul and face it, 

    not to move! I dare not, for a moment, to feel self-esteem and self-confidence, and now I know at last - it would be in vain to jump: 

    I can never enjoy your unfulfilled, blissful love with you!

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