Other than the routine, which is my soul, and my work, which is my bread: and which I must do because I must. ...There is this web-log, this literature, which gives me joy to remember and to write.
Who am I outside of the gargantuan images of the past few days? -The images of Herzog?
-I am uncertain.
I believe we share shadow stalkings of the self.
We venture into the unknown river, head first, and disappear in the shallows.
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