Love Doesn't Need A Reason.

I'm Reading "the Sunset Of A Splendid Century" By W.h. Lewis. He Was C.s. Lewis's Brother. He Wrote Two Books About The French Court Of Louis Xiv That Are Incredibly Detailed. They Are Books That On Every Page You Say, "wow, Think Of That."

I Had A Period When I Read Nobel Prize Winners. I Figured They Had To Be Good. I Discovered Some People I Didn't Know About, Like The Icelandic Writer Halldor Laxness, Who Wrote "independent People." .

Other Than Fiction And Poetry I Tend To Read History.

Baudelaire's L'héautontimorouménos Was Long Seen To Be A Sexual Sadomasochistic Poem, It Is Now Generally Accepted That The Poem Is About Writing Poetry.

Let's Say Someone Has Experienced A Violent Trauma Or Betrayal: A Child Has Been Raped By A Parent Or Has Witnessed The Destruction Of Someone He Loves Or Has Been So Traumatized By The Possibility Of Beatings And Punishments That He's Afraid To Act. If The Trauma Is Great Enough, That Person's Life May Become Frozen, Emotionally Frozen Even Though He Still Gets Up In The Morning, Is Busy All Day, And Goes To Bed At Night. But There's This Empty Space That Begins To Fill With Rage, Rage Toward Everyone - The Perpetrator, The People In The World Who Haven't Suffered, Even Toward Himself. (174)