i just finished reading the seven storey mountain about a man who joins and becomes a trappist monk at the age 26. his mom dies at an early age his father is an artist who takes him whereever there is work blah blah blah. anyway these last few paragraphs speak ...
But then there was this shadow, this double, this writer who had followed me into the cloister. he is still on my track. he rides my shoulders, sometimes, like the old man of the sea. i cannot lose him. he still wears the name of thomas merton. is it the name of an enemy ? he is supposed to be dead. but he stands and meets me in the doorway of all my prayers and follows me into church. he kneels with me behind the pillar, the judas, and talks to me all the time in my ear. . . .And the worst of it is, he has my superiors on his side. they won't kick him out. i can't get rid of him. maybe in the end he will kill me, he will drink my blood. nobody seems to understand that one of us has got to die.
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