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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
133
Developed
a
savage
fit.
Up
to
a
certain
point,
perhaps,
but
beyond
that
anxiety
changes
into
recklessness--you
simply
don't
care.
The
aperients
are
causing
dyspepsia
and
intermittent
action
of
the
heart,
which
frightens
me.
After
a
terrifying
week,
during
which
at
crises
I
have
felt
like
dropping
suddenly
in
the
street,
in
the
gardens,
anywhere,
from
syncope,
I
rebelled
against
this
humiliating
fear.
I
pulled
my
shoulders
back
and
walked
briskly
ahead
along
the
street
with
a
dropped
beat
every
two
or
three
steps.
I
laughed
bitterly
at
it
and
felt
it
could
stop
or
go
on--I
was
at
last
indifferent.
In
a
photographer's
shop
was
the
picture
of
a
very
beautiful
woman
and
I
stopped
to
look
at
her.
I
glowered
in
thro'
the
glass
angrily
and
reflected
how
she
was
gazing
out
with
that
same
expression
even
at
the
butcher's
boy
or
the
lamp-lighter.
It
embittered
me
to
think
of
having
to
leave
her
to
some
other
man.
To
me
she
represented
all
the
joy
of
life
which
at
any
moment
I
might
have
had
to
quit
for
ever.
Such
impotence
enraged
me
and
I
walked
off
up
the
street
with
a
whirling
heart
and
the
thought,
"I
shall
drop,
I
suppose,
when
I
get
up
as
far
as
that."
Yet
don't
think
I
was
alarmed.
Oh!
no.
The
iron
had
entered
me,
and
I
went
on
with
cynical
indifference
waiting
to
be
struck
down.
...
She
is
a
very
great
deal
to
me.
Perhaps
I
love
her
very
much
after
all.
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