To Fraulein

How quickly time passes! I can barely recall the time we last met, and even less the conversations that passed; which usually I do with lasting clarity. It is this new life that has turned me so callous towards all these other affairs – and to think that you used to be the prime affair! I simply don’t have the time now. Nor the will and vigor of mind. I seem to feel a debilitating lethargy all the time. Even my writing has lost its effulgence (not that it had a lot to begin with). The truth is, Fraulein, I am lost. I have doubts all the time about the materials over which I ponder. And just this morning, I felt terribly disconcerted. I was in a sociology class, and sociology being a discipline none too distant from philosophy, made me think that it was a subject I could excel in. But behold, there I sat, quiet as a bard without his strings, whereas everyone else in the class were clambering over each other’s opinions like hungry, seasoned debaters. Could I not have felt inadequate, obtuse, delusional? I suspect this is the reason for the your absence. The myriad worries and anxieties have darkened the tunnels of my mind. I can see past nothing, not certainly the hopeful glimmer at the end. I do not wish to meet you in this deplorable state, nor, I believe, would you wish to meet me – I would only dim your cheeriness – and so let us agree to the fairness of my callous cocoon. Thus I bid you adieu!

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