T. S. Eliot in translation, although no longer necessary—I mean, the translation, not the poet,
or so I guess—makes me think of unredeemable time. I always thought there must be a reason
for your ever-growing reluctance to touch, just like there must be a reason for my tinnitus.
After all, a correct diagnosis is essential to finding a cure. It turned out that there is no remedy
for lies.