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Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.,c= After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,}Vn7 we ourselves flash and yearn,G0u8 I and moreover my mother told me as a boyr(Dgp& (repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored I means you have no$|'a+ ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ A16P Inner Resources." I conclude now I have noiFe] inner resources, because I am heavy bored.4!p#w Peoples bore me,=L|1# literature bores me, especially great literature,yu9 Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes!79 as bad as Achilles,$ ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ ~ who loves people and valiant art, which bores me./ And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag9GN and somehow a dog^{gG has taken itself & its tail considerably away}?F0 into the mountains or sea or sky, leavingg`:Ak behind: me, wag.M ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ d.0 For the poem, http://www.pith.net/pithfiles/ds14.htm47YQ ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ u$e Polar Bear, Art Wolfex(~N{ ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ @4!r! ========================================================'K ©½t¥Í³N¼Æ¬ã¨sªÀ -- ³N¼Æ¬ã¨s¡@¡@ sQ&Rl#
I ove this poem :) vivi.'8|
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