So that at first I did not know what it wanted. But in the end I understood this language. I understood it, I understood it, all wrong perhaps. That is not what matters. It told me to write the report. Does this mean I am freer now than I was? I do not know. I shall learn. Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
(It's better to create than destroy what's unnecessary)
Friday, March 28, 2008
Molloy - Closing
Labels: Closing, Samuel Beckett
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