"had we but world enough, and time" - Andrew Marvell
so then why do i do this? Maybe sex with inappropriate men is my drug of choice? Rather than snorting coke or shooting heroin, I just go out and fuck dick that’s riddled with drama and a hint of self loathing?
A journal is an artificially permanent record of thought and inner life, which are invariably transient — something the most prolific diarist in modern literary history articulated herself in her elegant defense of the fluid self. We are creatures of remarkable moodiness and mental turbulence, and what we think we believe at any given moment — those capital-T Truths we arrive at about ourselves and the world — can be profoundly different from our beliefs a decade, a year, and sometimes even a day later.