I Have No Useful Theories About Love

If You've Really Loved A Book, Or A Movie For That Matter, Really Loved It, What You Want Is That Same Book Again, But As If You've Never Read It. And When You Get Something Unfamiliar, You Feel Betrayed.

You Grow Weary Of Being Treated As The Enemy Simply Because You Are Not Young Anymore; Because You Dress Unexceptionally.

Dead, We Are Revealed In Our True Dimensions, And They Are Surprisingly Modest.

She Is, Above All Else, Tired; She Wants More Than Anything To Return To Her Bed And Her Book. The World, This World, Feels Suddenly Stunned And Stunted, Far From Everything.

What She Wants To Say Has To Do Not Only With Joy But With The Penetrating, Constant Fear That Is Joy's Other Half.