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107 I feel like the wrath from God! [[strikethrough]] I want to get away [[/strikethrough]]. I want the little loves and hates of a small life, the tiny interests of a fire side. I want to knit and look on ^[[at life]], I want to make lists of unimportant things to buy and interview a cook that [[strikethrough]] [[needs]] [[/strikethrough]] ^[[should have]] discipline. I want to sit by the bedside of a child who does not need me, but whom I fancy does, I want the stupid love of a domestic man. My heart longs for the hand that stretches over the carpet slippers and [[strikethrough]] the [[/strikethrough]] in front of the peaceful fire looks into ^[[a calm future]] [[strikethrough]] devoted eyes [[/strikethrough]]. I am not ^[[calm]][[strikethrough]] dep devoted [[/strikethrough]], I hate carpet slippers, domesticity bores me, love without unreason seems to me like a curse. ^[[Childrens]] Bedsides ^[[I love when they make me think of Peter Pan]] [[strikethrough]] are splendidly dull, [[/strikethrough]] Cooks
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