MS-HRC-SB-5-10

[2190] escapes them in time, what a hope, the bright boy is there,
for the excellent reason that that counts as living too, counts
as murder, it's well established[x], ^notorious, oh you can't deny it, some
people are lucky, born of a wet dream and dead before morning,
Imust say I must say I'm tempted, no, the testis has yet to
descend that would put ^{up have anything to do would have any truck} with me, it's mutual, another gleam down
the drain.

[2191] And now one last look at Mahood, at Worm, we'll never ^{it's our}
get anotehr ^last chance, ah will they never learn sense, there's
nothing more ^{[⁁] to be got}, there was never anything, to be got from those
stories, I have mine, let them tell it tom me, they'll see
there's nothing to be got from it either, noeh^thing to be got
from me, it will be the end, of this hell of stories, you'd think

[2191] it was I was cursing them, still ^always the sameo old dodge ^trick, you'd be
sorry for them, perhaps I'll curse them yet, they'll know what
it is to be a subject of conversation, I'll ascribe to thel^{m put words in their mouths}
words ^{impute words to them} you wouldn't throw too a dog, an ear, a mouth, and in the
middle a few rags of mind, I'll get my own back, a few flitterd^s
of mind, they'll see what it's like, I'll clap an eye at random

[2191] in the thick of the mess, on the offchance something might
stray in front of it, then I'll let down my trousers and shit
stories at them, stories, photograp^hs, records, sites, lights,
gods and fellow-creatures, the daily round and common task,
observing the while, Be born, dear friends, be born, enter my
arse, you'll just love my colic pains, it won't take long, I've
the gripes.

[2192] They'll see what it's like, that it's not so easy as
it looks, that you must have a taste for it, that it's not
within reach of everyone, that you must be born alive, that
it's not a thing you can acquire, that will teach them perhaps,
to keep their nose out of my business.

[2193] Yes, if I could, but I
cant' can't, whatever it is, I can't any more, I could perhaps
once, in the days when I was bursting my guts, as per instructio
instructions, to bring him back to the fold the dear lost lamb,
I'd been told he was dear, that he was dead^r to me, that I was
dear to him, that we were dear to each other, all my life I've
pelted him with twaddle^, the dear departed, wondering what he co