Assorted snippets of writing, rants, arguments...basically the sui-pi of LJ.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Inspected by 65 rr28

They strolled side by side, with about an arm's length between them, and spoke towards the ground. The intensity and intimacy in their voices showed familiarity with each other and, more importantly, with the subject matter. Again, they would try to talk it out. Again, they would make promises. Both are tired of it. Both knew they wouldn’t change.

She tells him about her emptiness and swears it had nothing to do with him. She says that she’s not happy, but she’d rather be unhappy with him than with anyone else. She’s being honest when she says it. Deep down, it isn’t the truth. But, deep down hasn’t yet been tested. So, the truth is the truth for now.

He feels her lie. He is uncomfortable with how angry his is about it. But, he doesn’t want to shake anything up. This isn’t the truth and he knows it. He wants to fight with her. He wants to say clear, incisive phrases with the hope that she’ll want him more for attacking her words. It’s fear that prevents the attack. He’s not much of a gambler and even less a debater. He won’t put stock in himself on his ability to successfully call her bluff.

About Me

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Even to those without Marxist sympathies, LJ was a dashing, charismatic figure: the asthmatic son of an aristocratic Argentine family whose sympathy for the world's oppressed turned him into a socialist revolutionary, the valued comrade-in-arms of Cuba's Fidel Castro and a leader of guerilla warfare in Latin America and Africa.