Everything wearies me,
including what doesn't weary me.
My happiness is as painful as my pain.
There's a thin sheet of glass
between me and life.
However clearly I see and understand life,
I can't touch it.
Rationalize my sadness?
What for, if rationalization takes effort?
Sad people can't make an effort.
I can't even renounce those banal acts of life that I so abhor.
To renounce is an effort,
and I don't have it in me
to make any effort.
(Peatükk 80 - Dolorous Interlude)
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