He shakes himself and goes on with his work, but it is difficultto concentrate. A starling awakes him in the twilight of dawn.Strange surgings and desires pass through him, surgings and desiresthat are always freshly unfamiliar, and yet older than the earth.New friendships entice him, old affections quicken to the beat ofunfamiliar rhythms, He is wretchedly unhappy, but desperately inlove with life. Perhaps the lover is always unhappy, becausesomething tells him that satiety is an illusion.
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But to return to your own life, can you say that it has form? Isthere any working up to a climax, and then letting down gently tothe end? I think not You are indeed hardly connected with what youwere yourself twenty years ago. Memory fades, and desires andconvictions change. You are a queer nebulous mass of passions,emotions, prejudices, and desires linking the dead with theunborn. 2ff7e9595c
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