I wish I could feel
just the least bit jubilant about having survived an academic year.
But I don't think I could.
"What is hate? I think when one becomes very angry for a very long time, one gets used to it. And it becomes comfortable, like old leather. And finally, it becomes so familiar that one can't remember feeling any other way."
[fin]
But I don't think I could.
"What is hate? I think when one becomes very angry for a very long time, one gets used to it. And it becomes comfortable, like old leather. And finally, it becomes so familiar that one can't remember feeling any other way."
[fin]
Labels: life