There are times when I live entirely without self-consciousness, times when I live all but without mind. I vegetate. I listen to myself, and outside of a weak feeling of nausea, there is nothing. I am almost well.*
There is much work that I must do.
This is a dangerous time for me. Sisyphus’ stone rolls downhill.
By Moyshe Varshe
Translated by Corbin Allardice
*- Or, “that is almost good for/by me.”
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