This is the time of year when, for more than twenty years, I’ve lost myself in reflection about the passage of time, the year behind, and the year ahead.
This year, I am unable to do anything but hang on, moment by moment.
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Cherished memories are among the most tragic things known to mankind, more evocative of the nature of being than anything else I can think of.
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The trouble with western rationalism in general is that it imagines that metaphor is metaphorical.