The past beats inside me... «The Sea»
alsoda27 января 2012The past beats inside me like a second heart. --------- Everybody seems to be younger than I am, even the dead. --------- The past, I mean the real past, matters less than we pretend. --------- I think I am becoming my own ghost. --------- He grew anxious in my company—I did not blame him, I grow anxious in it myself. --------- It was not what I was that I disliked, I mean the singular, essential me—although I grant that even the notion of an essential, singular self is problematic—but the congeries of affects, inclinations, received ideas, class tics, that my birth and upbringing had bestowed on me in place of a personality. --------- We were happy together, or not unhappy, which is more than most people manage; is that not enough?
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