And then I ask myself, “Why do you write all these things?” And: “Wouldn’t it be so much better if you would just fall silent and disappear?” And: “Isn’t it all just self-deception: thinking to yourself that you are doing fine, as you head full steam into oblivion?” And I think to myself: “All the world thinks they have something important to say, to which they must give voice, believing themselves rightly guided.” And I wonder: “Am I just deluded?” And I wonder still: “Should I vanish now?”

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