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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
42
[2]
In
Byron's
poem.
1911
January
2.
As
a
young
man--a
very
young
man--my
purpose
was
to
plough
up
all
obstacles,
brook
no
delays,
and
without
let
or
hindrance
win
through
to
an
almost
immediate
success!
But
witness
1910!
"My
career"
so
far
has
been
like
the
White
Knight's,
who
fell
off
behind
when
the
horse
started,
in
front
when
it
stopped,
and
sideways
occasionally
to
vary
the
monotony.
January
30.
Feeling
ill
and
suffering
from
attacks
of
faintness.
My
ill
health
has
produced
a
change
in
my
attitude
towards
work.
As
soon
as
I
begin
to
feel
the
least
bit
down,
I
am
bound
to
stop
at
once
as
the
idea
of
bending
over
a
desk
or
a
dissecting
dish,
of
reading
or
studying,
nauseates
me
when
I
think
that
perhaps
to-morrow
or
next
day
or
next
week,
next
month,
next
year
I
may
be
dead.
What
a
waste
of
life
it
seems
to
work!
Zoology
is
repugnant
and
philosophy
superfluous
beside
the
bliss
of
sheer
living--out
in
the
cold
polar
air
or
indoors
in
a
chair
before
a
roaring
fire
with
hands
clasped,
watching
the
bustling,
soothing
activity
of
the
flames.
Then,
as
soon
as
I
am
well
again,
I
forget
all
this,
grow
discontented
with
doing
nothing
and
work
like
a
Tiger.
February
11.
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