Perhaps the only difference between me and other people is that I've always demanded more from the sunset. More spectacular colors when the sun hit the horizon. That's perhaps my only sin.
It's actually the souls of the trees we're seeing in the winter. In summer everything is green and idyllic but in the winter, the branches and the trunks all stand out. Just look at how crooked they all are. The branches have to carry all the leaves to the sunlight. That's one long struggle for survival.
For me, love was just lust with jealousy added; everything else was total nonsense. For every hundred crimes committed in the name of love, only one is committed in the name of lust.
Dear everyone, don't think it's been easy, but I understand now that we're not and never will be alike. I'm not like you, who fucks to be validated and might just as well give up putting cocks inside of you. And I'm not like you. All you want is to be filled up and whether it's by a man or by tons of disgusting slop makes no difference. And I'm definitely not like you. That empathy you claim is a lie because all you are is society's morality police whose duty is to erase my obscenity from the surface of the earth so that the Bourgeoisie won't feel sick. I'm not like you. I am a nymphomaniac and I love myself for being one, but above all, I love my cunt and my filthy, dirty lust.
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. ("The House of the Usher" by Edgar Allan Poe)
Young Joe: If I asked you to take my virginity, would that be a problem?
Jerôme: No, I don't see a problem.
Seligman: Love is blind.
Joe: No, no, no, it's worse. Love distort things. Or even worse, love is something you've never asked for.
Seligman: I'm Seligman.
Joe: What a fucking ridiculous name.
B: Smile, make eye contact.
Young Joe: But what if it doesn't work?
B: Then you have to talk to them. Remember to ask lots of 'what?' questions if you want more than a 'yes' or 'no' answer. Then it'll just happen on its own. You just take them to the lavatory and you have sex with them.
Young Joe: What if it's nasty?
B: Then you just think about the bag of chocolate sweeties.