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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
334
August
6.
E----
and
I
were
very
modern
in
our
courtship.
Our
candour
was
mutual
and
complete--parents
and
relatives
would
be
shocked
and
staggered
if
they
knew....
You
see
I
am
a
biologist
and
we
are
both
freethinkers.
Voilà!...
I
hate
all
reticence
and
concealment....
There
is
a
good
deal
of
that
ass,
Gregers
Werle,
in
my
nature.
August
7.
My
Gastrocnemius
I
become
dreadfully
emaciated.
This
morning,
before
getting
off
the
bed
I
lifted
my
leg
and
gazed
wistfully
along
all
its
length.
My
flabby
gastrocnemius
swung
suspended
from
the
tibia
like
a
gondola
from
a
Zeppelin.
I
touched
it
gently
with
the
tip
of
my
index
finger
and
it
oscillated.
August
17.
My
beloved
wife
comes
home
this
evening
after
a
short,
much
needed
holiday.
August
27.
My
gratuity
has
turned
out
to
be
unexpectedly
small.
I
hoped
at
least
for
one
year's
salary.
And
the
horrible
thing
is
I
might
live
for
several
years
longer!
No
one
was
ever
more
enthusiastic
for
death
than
I
am
at
this
moment.
I
hate
this
world
with
its
war,
and
I
bitterly
regret
I
never
managed
to
buy
laudanum
in
time.
There
are
only
E----
and
dear
R----
and
one
or
two
others--the
rest
of
the
people
I
know
I
hate
en
bloc.
If
only
I
could
get
at
them.
I
hate
to
have
to
leave
them
to
themselves
without
getting
my
own
back.
August
31.
My
darling
sweetheart,
you
ask
me
why
I
love
you.
I
do
not
know.
All
I
know
is
that
I
do
love
you,
and
beyond
measure.
Why
do
you
love
me--surely
a
more
inscrutable
problem.
You
do
not
know.
No
one
ever
knows.
"The
heart
has
its
reasons
which
the
reason
knows
not
of."
We
love
in
obedience
to
a
powerful
gravitation
of
our
beings,
and
then
try
to
explain
it
by
recapitulating
one
another's
characters
just
as
a
man
forms
his
opinions
first
and
then
thinks
out
reasons
in
support.
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