Don’t you think it’s a bit of a chicken and egg question. I think writers are formed from an early age, it’s the perspective that creates the writer; so the manner in which a writer loves is inseparable from their being a writer–with a possibly different perspective on love. Which can be unfortunate for the object of a writer’s love (not the writing, the people). I’m speaking about myself, of course.
There’s truth to that for me as well, except the possibly different perspective on love has not been unfortunate for my people. Perhaps I should be thankful for that.
I’m no good at partnering, mainly because I choose partners who will treat me not too well. I see something familiar in them and think it to be intimacy. But it’s no such thing.
It is, 97% of the time. That’s better than I thought it could be. The world is enormous and weird; you never know what will happen, or when. Especially after you have given up trying.
That’s true, but he might have mentioned that love can be “a dog from hell”.
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Especially when your love is writing.
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Don’t you think it’s a bit of a chicken and egg question. I think writers are formed from an early age, it’s the perspective that creates the writer; so the manner in which a writer loves is inseparable from their being a writer–with a possibly different perspective on love. Which can be unfortunate for the object of a writer’s love (not the writing, the people). I’m speaking about myself, of course.
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There’s truth to that for me as well, except the possibly different perspective on love has not been unfortunate for my people. Perhaps I should be thankful for that.
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I’m no good at partnering, mainly because I choose partners who will treat me not too well. I see something familiar in them and think it to be intimacy. But it’s no such thing.
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Well, I don’t have the best history in that regard. Or didn’t, until The Chef came along. He is thoroughly un-sucky, which is high praise from me.
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That’s a great thing. I’ve given up trying.
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It is, 97% of the time. That’s better than I thought it could be. The world is enormous and weird; you never know what will happen, or when. Especially after you have given up trying.
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For someone who’s cited Dotty Parker’s Resume among her favourites, you sure is optimistic.
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I am optimistic. And pessimistic. And jaded, cynical, cheery, hopeful, positive, surly, kind…Complexity is a beautiful thing.
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Then you might find this, or maybe my response to it, interesting:
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