Me ( or Satie )

I'm burning to give you my description here (enumeration of my physical particulars - the ones I can mention decently, that is):... Hair and eyebrowns dark auburn; eyes brown-green (probably clouded); hair covering forehead; nose long; mouth medium; chin wide; face oval. Height 1 metre 81 centimetres.
The description on this document dates from ....). It would not fit me today.

I'm sorry I can't give you my digital (finger) prints. Oh yes. I don't have them on me, and these special reproductions are not good to look at (they look like Vuillermoz and Laloy combined).

Let us pass on. I shall come back to this subject later.

Following a rather short adolescence, I became an ordinary young man, tolerable but no more. At that moment in my life I began to think and to write music. Oh yes.

Wretched idea!... very wretched idea!

It certainly was, for I lost no time in developing an unpleasant (original) originality, irrelevant, unnatural, etc..

Then life became so impossible for me that I resolved to retire to my estates and pass the rest of my days in an ivory tower - or one of some other (metallic) metal.

That is why I acquired a taste for misanthropy; why I nurtured hypochondria; why I became the most (leaden-like) miserable of men. It distressed people to look at me - even through hall-marked gold eye-glasses. Oh yes.

And all this happened to me because of music. That art has done me more harm that good, really: it has made me quarrel with people of quality, most honourable, more-than-distinguished, terribly genteel people.

Precise and acuratte words to describe oneself. I did not wrote them. But he did.
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