Desires, Memories, Fears, Passions Form

I Took All The Blame. I Admitted Mistakes I Hadn't Made, Intentions I'd Never Had. Whenever She Turned Cold And Hard, I Begged Her To Be Good To Me Again, To Forgive Me And Love Me. Sometimes I Had The Feeling That She Hurt Herself When She Turned Cold And Rigid. As If What She Was Yearning For Was The Warmth Of My Apologies, Protestations, And Entreaties. Sometimes I Thought She Just Bullied Me. But Either Way, I Had No Choice.

It Is Hard For Me To Imagine That I Felt Good About Behaving Like That. I Also Remember That The Smallest Gesture Of Affection Would Bring A Lump To My Throat, Whether It Was Directed At Me Or At Someone Else. Sometimes All It Took Was A Scene In A Movie. This Juxtaposition Of Callousness And Extreme Sensitivity Seemed Suspicious Even To Me.

Why Does What Was Beautiful Shatter In Hindsight Because It Concealed Dark Truths?

I Can't Say I'm Thankful About Being German Because I Sometimes Experience It As A Huge Burden. But It Is An Integral Part Of Me And I Wouldn't Want To Escape It. I Have Accepted It.

There's This Old Saying That, If You Aren't Particularly Gifted In Natural Sciences, If You Don't Want To Become A Teacher Or Pastor Or Doctor, And Don't Know What Else To Do, Then You Become A Lawyer. But I've Never Regretted It.