It's Borges!

I know what it is, it's Borges.
Much of me had really done away with the comforts of metaphysicalisms, which are no joke but more than a trouble. Then I found myself lost!
See, like that. It could have been a joke about Ariadne but that would have been phonetical, a pun surely, and rather less dependent on signifieds.
I feel like I'm carrying baggage around--my desire isn't interstitial, it's damn near anthropomorphic.