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Me Again

The more bored I became

with my unacceptable person,

the more I returned to the theme of my person;

worst of all,

I kept painting myself to myself

in the midst of a happening.

What an idiot (I said to myself

a thousand times over) to perfect all that craft

of description and describe only myself,

as though I had nothing to show but my head,

nothing better than to tell the mistakes of a lifetime.

Pablo Neruda