(one of the) 50 ways to write a portrait

© John Sokol, James Joyce

"Loonely in me loneness. For all their faults. I am passing out. O bitter ending! I'll slip away before they're up. They'll never see. Nor know. Nor miss me. And it's old and old and it's sad and old it's sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere size of him, the moyles and moyles of it, moananonaning, makes me seasilt saltsick, and I rush, my only, into your arms"


(James Joyce, uit: Finnegans Wake)