November 15, 1972
(Mother seems very impersonal and far away.)
So?
I have a feeling I sometimes see you at night.
(Mother nods: yes, yes)
And you, the work, Mother?
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What?
Your work?
"My" work….
Poetically, I could say: a few seconds in heaven and … hours in hell.
It’s better not to speak about it.
(Mother moans while in trance)
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