I can say with irreproachable honesty that the few sentient beings left in this life(since it is an empty life unless love or hate or any other powerful venom takes over the heart ) have the same condition true in all children: depth of feeling and absorption. Again, the sentient survivors own a wealth incomparable to economic obsessions that define the lives of the spiritually poor. Of course, I'm talking about myself and every citizen in this arrogant and selfish nation.
Children are experts in life management and yet the memories of childhood are vague. If adults had the talent or grandiose ability to undertake new identities to escape misunderstood horrors, there wouldn't be a film industry or the need for fiction in literature. Being now considered an adult with cognitive capacity, though at times hopelessly maladjusted and other times an angry centenarian, I'm discovering that everybody is fucking crazy, and not just my grandmother(or the females in my family)
One day, when my grandfather was alive and living like a Roman despite his elderly heart, he approached me with a question he had respectfully ignored for the 7 years we had lived in the same house. In a soft tone that had been altered to speak to a child( I knew it and he knew it and it was a touching detail nonetheless) he asked if my parents were fighting. Of course, the throwing of appliances in the first floor wasn't poltergeist and surely had reverberated in all interior areas of the 3 story museum or asylum or familial residence. So I replied in the affirmative. He said soon they would reconcile( which really meant stay silent until the next choleric argument) and that couples shouldn't argue.
In theory, couples who love each other are forgiving and kind. But in this forsaken life, the average person is unforgiving and kind only to himself. Because I have some legitimate power to speak on the subject, I'll admit to having a repugnance against long love stories, partially because I've no story of my own, and partially because my friend's love stories mimic theatre and politics.
