An Apology to Mr. Robert Walser
(Jan 10/06)
Far be it for me to abrogate and diminish a genuine writer such as Robert Walser. It seems churlish and none too petty to attack a man, a genuine writer, for his psychopathologies. Regardless of Mr. Walser’s praecox’s, or his ignoble attachment to word-sodomy, he certainly deserves more respect than someone the likes of me is capable of imputing.
More so, taking into consideration my own praecox, or Ego-lessness, which simply serves to amplify my own ignobly, I haven’t an Adlerian foot to stand on. So to Mr. Walser’s remaining family, I offer this apology, albeit a sheepish one at that. He did scribble quite a bit, however, and with my pencil ends and notepaper. But I suppose given the circumstances of his death, that can be forgiven.
If it’s any consolation to the Walser family, the remaining Walser’s, I slept a charily 2 ½ hours last night. After 1 ½ hours of physioterrorism this morning at the hands of a most fetching and consummate professional, I feel I have paid the price, albeit a meager one, for my Walserian indiscretions last night. Perhaps more so, as I now have an Adlerian shoulder, stiffened, clubbed and of inferior caste and psychological facility. I am insane in deed.
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