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Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.+V}&L After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,a^tD we ourselves flash and yearn,#q and moreover my mother told me as a boy_{I]T (repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're boredRD means you have noyM ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ H9N Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no/TNY inner resources, because I am heavy bored.t Peoples bore me,$ literature bores me, especially great literature,\[} Henry bores me, with his plights & gripesj88- as bad as Achilles,4\L^L ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ yWn% who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.r'| And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a dragT[< and somehow a dogI has taken itself & its tail considerably awayZ< into the mountains or sea or sky, leavingb behind: me, wag.oUA ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ ?JHzD For the poem, http://www.pith.net/pithfiles/ds14.htm-TKaE# ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ %"F'P Polar Bear, Art Wolfe,%s ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ Sgw ========================================================M]{ ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ i:$
I ove this poem :) vivi:B
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