O MacGuffin

terça-feira, agosto 19, 2003


The Literary World
’Finally, after five months of my life during which I could write nothing that would satisfied me, and for which no power will compensate me…’

My dear Kafka,
When you’ve had five years of it, not five months,
Five years of an irresistible force meeting an
Immoveable object right in your belly,
Then you’ll know about depression.

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