Well, I must say: love sucks! I wonder why we all need it so desperately... I feel like a puppet on a big stage, rambling from east to west, begging with weary eyes for someone to take me away from another painful and penniless day. Today I was reading "The sentimental education" - I just needed a better idea - and an old thought crossed my mind: what about them? What about those who love us without our consent? Without our knowledge or against our will? The more I read, the more it interested me. What about them? Who are they? How do they know anything about us? Do they wonder, do they wait? Do they make plans for a lifetime? Are they sure their time is about to come? Do they feel any pain? In their dreams, am I pretty? Am I good? Do they honestly believe what they feel is love? Does it really matter to me? No, not really. I should keep reading to see what happens next.
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