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The Suffering of Being Kafka

By: Sam Vaknin

...rom the windowpane, to exit and meet him in the dusk. My grandmother didn't utter a single syllable as she fastened the blinders in his face. Janusz... ...nd everyone hummed in consent. "Poor Dinah" – sighed another aunt, summing in these three syllables her entire shrivelling misery. It was stuffy a... ...e doesn't even notice Mayer who occupies a seat beside him. His lips give shape to writhing syllables. Mayer regards his efforts with nauseated fasc... ...my first words? Silence. I said zilch, nada, nothing. Having deconstructed her introductory syllables, I began to survey her, limb by limb. It goes ...

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