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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
281
My
sensibility
is
dulled
too.
It
chagrins
me
to
find
that
my
present
plight
by
no
means
overwhelms
me
with
anguish
as
it
would
have
done
once.
It
only
worries
me.
I
am
just
a
worried
ox.
September
26.
The
numbness
in
my
right
hand
is
getting
very
trying.
...
The
Baby
puts
the
lid
on
it
all.
Can't
you
see
the
sordid
picture?
I
can,
and
it
haunts
me.
To
be
paralysed
with
a
wife
and
child
and
no
money--ugh!
Retribution
proceeds
with
an
almost
mathematical
accuracy
of
measure.
It
would
necessitate
a
vernier
rather
than
a
chain.
There
is
no
mercy
in
Cause
and
Effect.
It
is
inhuman
clockwork.
Every
single
act
expended
brings
one
its
precise
equivalent
in
return....
September
28.
Still
nothing
to
report.
I
am
astonished
at
the
false
impression
these
entries
give
of
myself.
The
picture
is
incomplete
anyhow.
It
represents
the
cloud
of
forebodings
over
my
inner
self
but
does
not
show
the
outward
front
I
present
to
others.
This
is
one
of
almost
constant
gaiety--unforced
and
quite
natural.
Ask
E----,
who
said
yesterday
I
was
like
a
schoolboy.
"Camerade,
I
give
you
my
hand!
I
give
you
my
love
more
precious
than
money,
I
give
you
myself
before
preaching
or
law;
Will
you
give
me
yourself?
Will
you
come,
travel
with
me?
Shall
we
stick
by
each
other
as
long
as
we
live?"
She
cut
this
out
of
her
copy
of
Walt
Whitman
and
gave
it
me
soon
after
our
engagement.
It
is
very
precious
to
me.
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