DEARTH

I am miserable now– not feeling unhappiness, just lack of life coming to me and coming out of me– resignation to getting nothing and seeking nothing, staying behind shell. The glare of unknown love, human, unhad by me– the tenderness I never had. I don’t want to be just a nothing, a sick blank, withdrawal to myself forever. I just want something, besides the emptiness I’ve carried around in me all my life.

–Allen Ginsberg

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