I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men....
I'm due to fall in love again.
-Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker has always been my inspiration. She was such a sad woman, but she made up for it by keeping herself and the people around her laughing.
Love has become so fictionalized, so romanticized that it is scarcely recognizable anymore. It is easy to dismiss me for saying that since I have never had any luck in that area. But honestly, even the couples that work out in real life are completely unlike the couples that work out in novels. The finish line in novels is agreeing to go out on a date with someone (or marry them depending on the time period). They don't talk about how dating is a nightmare, how you will both change in a year in very different ways, and how you find yourself attracting to other people, no matter how hard you try.
I am convinced, on this subject, that Dorothy Parker is right.
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