Do you detect upon my forehead this faded crown? Tenacity weaved it there with its faded arms. so long as a hint of burning sap runs via my bones like a torrent of molten steel I shall by no means sleep. each one evening I strength my furious eyes to stare on the stars during the panes of my window. so as to be surer of myself I prop my swollen eyelids open with splinters. whilst sunrise breaks it reveals me within the similar perspective, my physique resting in a vertical place erect opposed to the chilly plaster of the wall. but it occurs occasionally that I dream, yet with no wasting for an immediate the full of life experience of my character or the unfastened school of move: recognize that Nightmare hides himself within the phosphorescent crannies of darkness, whereas fever arms my face with its stump, and each unclean beast brandishes its claws—very good, it's my will that retains them going around and around in an effort to supply reliable nourishment for its perpetual task. certainly, atom that wreaks revenge by way of its severe weak point, loose will doesn't worry to take care of with robust authority that it doesn't comprise sottishness between its sons: he who sleeps is lower than an animal castrated the previous day. even though insomnia bears in the direction of the depths of the grave those muscular tissues which already exhale the scent of cypress, by no means will the white catacomb of my intelligence open its sanctuary to the eyes of the author. A mystery and noble justice, in the direction of the open palms of which I instinctively fling myself, instructions me to seek down with out area that ignoble punishment. nervous enemy of my imprudent soul, I forbid my unsatisfied loins to repose upon the dewy grass on the hour once they struggle up the lantern at the coast. Conqueror, I reject the ambush of your hypocritical opium. for that reason it's sure that my middle, that ravenous factor that feeds upon itself, has matured its plans by means of that bizarre fight. As impenetrable as an enormous, i've got lived without end with the sockets of my eyes gaping. it's averred that not less than through the day one could provide victorious competition to the nice outdoors item (who isn't really conversant in his identify? ); for then the need watches over its defenses with impressive tenacity. yet once the vaporous veil of night descends, even upon the condemned males approximately to be hanged, (O! to determine one’s mind within the fingers of a sacrilegious stranger! ) an implacable scalpel probes into its dense lower than brush. awareness exhales an extended death-rattle of malediction, for the veil of its modesty undergoes merciless lacerations. Humiliation! Our door is open to the ferocious interest of the Celestial Bandit. i haven't deserved this notorious torture, hideous undercover agent upon my causality! If I exist, it's not that i am another person. i can't admit any equivocal plurality inside of myself. I desire to stay on my own inside of my intimate cause. Autonomy . . . or allow them to switch me right into a hippopotamus. Bury your self within the earth, O nameless stigma, and seem not more earlier than my haggard indignation. My subjectivity and the author: this is often an excessive amount of for one mind.