Men think that they are clever. That, I do not know. But, I'm sure they still have a lot of growing up to do.
Men have been given a chance... a chance to broaden their education in the realm of the erotic. They used to pretend, sometimes they are in moody silence. If they embrace at all; they do it perfunctorily. They are cowards for their happiness and unhappiness are average. I don't know what I believe. Sometimes I think, I don't believe in anything.
Men forgot that in "love" there must be passion, intimacy, and respect. They acted cruelly like Picasso; the way he transfigures a woman with his hypnotic black eyes, bending and twisting their body like metal in a fiery furnace. Must it all be so cruel? Surely, there is a form of cohabitation in which man and woman eat together, live together, yet remained immersed in their respective inward explorations. Rejecting these... affair is doomed to fail. Other men are impossible to live with. Sometimes I began to flounder and curse.
Men are charlatans. For them, they are the man, she is the woman; they had the pleasures of hers. Now they must pay the price; that seems to be the way affairs work. They listen but they never believe.
Life with men, if it is a sickness, then let the sickness takes its course.
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