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October 2, 2019
How often I wonder at the fact that I am, without a doubt, a thoroughgoing misanthrope, yet when I fall in love I fall so far and so hard it leaves me almost winded emotionally; gasping for air, and the only air that will do is the sweet air exhaled by the object of my love. How can human beings be so clearly, demonstrably awful, yet she is so intoxicatingly lovely that I crave her voice, her words and her touch, like a drowning man craves air? She is gold in the river, and I am dazzled, delighted... and deluded.