Hilarious and scarily true.
Homosocial Tactilty in India and the West, And Why Sometimes You See It, and Sometimes Don’t.
Ah, exactly what would happen to me too at the prospect of potty training another human being. Hilarious and endearing, as always.
My wife and daughter are trying to ruin my life. In fact, judging from the cheering and applause, the whole business seems to excite them both entirely too much. They want to abandon my perfectly workable and orderly methods so that they can substitute a complex finicky mess, with the emphasis on mess. I think they’ve even been looking forward to this for months. It seems to me like some sort of insanity; whereas I quite rationally want to
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In beauty there lies a kind of power: it allows for self-love, which I think is one of the rarest things on earth.
The most estranging sensation is suddenly catching sight of yourself in a mirror, and not recognising the person staring back at you.
I just realised that the clothes, earrings, bits of paper, spiral-bound photocopies I leave around are effectively the sediment I deposit on the banks of my life.
Being hurt; really, really being hurt is real when the feeling sneaks up on you, anywhere between one minute to an hour after said Hurtful Thing. Its like gashing your knee open, and beginning to cry only when the shock and adrenaline wears off and you feel the pain.
Permanent discontentment is The Human Condition.