Wombat's Journal Begins
To begin, I will quote a poem from the late (and probably BP)
American poet John Berryman. It's from his "Dream Songs" and
rather perfectly expresses my feelings for Nancy (it's been
six months and I still can't help loving her.)
The tenor of the lines of your retreats,
Done in an instant, hurts me forever. Well,
I suffer that bad will
So long as I suffer. You would not have wanted this,
The chaining of your friend to your abyss
With one of the best seats.
I overlook the hopeless spectacle
with pity & love & almost perfect admiration,
I feel your terror.
I wish I didn't. Go, but not to hell,
But you have disqualified yourself for this nation
Of attempts & trial & error.
You lowered a wall between us
Which was your privilege. Now you must not expect
Anything but suffering more,
Fearless and final. You became anonymous
And untruth after in your regard will be correct
Hung on the veil you tore.
I will follow up with excerpts from my journal, consisting of a
completely honest narrative of my six years with Nancy.
