I Had A Great Teacher

What If We Just Acknowledged That We Have A Bad Relationship, And We Stuck It Out, Anyway? What If We Admitted That We Make Each Other Nuts, We Fight Constantly And Hardly Ever Have Sex, But We Can't Live Without Each Other, So We Deal With It? And Then We Could Spend Our Lives Together - In Misery, But Happy To Not Be Apart.

She Followed The Pleasure Where It Led. She Had No Weight, No Name, No Thoughts, No History. Then Came A Burst Of Phosphorescence, As Though A Firework Had Discharged Behind Her Eyes, And It Was Over. She Felt Quiet And Warm. For The First Conscious Moment Of Her Life, Her Mind Was Free From Wonder, Free From Worry, Free From Work Or Puzzlement. Then, From The Middle Of That Marvelous Furred Stillness, A Thought Took Shape, Took Hold, Took Over. I Shall Have To Do This Again.

Every Few Years, I Think, 'maybe Now I'm Finally Smart Enough Or Sophisticated Enough To Understand 'ulysses.'' So I Pick It Up And Try It Again. And By Page 10, As Always, I'm Like, 'what The Hell?'

The Trick At Every Turn Was To Endure The Test Of Living For As Long As Possible. The Odds Of Survival Were Punishingly Slim, For The World Was Naught By A School Of Calamity And An Endless Burning Furnace Of Tribulation. But Those Who Survived The World Shaped It--even As The World, Simultaneously, Shaped Them.

Given That Life Is So Short, Do I Really Want To Spend One-ninetieth Of My Remaining Days On Earth Reading Edward Gibbon?