"i fear mostly my inability to capture all the things that come
i fear their mysterious source...i fear their fate
i fear me
this is true
it's like finding a river of gold when you haven't even
got a cup to save a cup full
you've but a thimble
and that thimble is your pathetic brain
and labor
and humanness
i like too many things and get all confused
and hung up running from one falling star
to another
till i drop
this is the night
what it does to me
i have nothing to offer anybody
except my own
confusion"
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