Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Of DeProfundis,Soul ,a Monologue d'apres Wilde

photos by marguerita

I, and such as I am, have hardly any right to air and sun. Our presence taints the pleasures of others. We are unwelcome when we reappear. To revisit the glimpses of the moon is not for us.

Our very children are taken away.

Those lovely links with humanity are broken. We are doomed to be solitary, while our sons still live.
. We are denied the one thing that might heal us and keep us, that might bring balm to the bruised heart, and peace to the soul in pain. . .

.I must say to myself that I ruined myself, and that nobody great or small can be ruined except by his own hand. I am quite ready to say so. I am trying to say so, though they may not think it at the present moment.
Terrible as was what the world did to me, what I did to myself was far more terrible still.

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