My Dislike Has No Consequences. It Accrues

Self-pity” Is Just Sadness, I Think, In The Pejorative.

The Writer Has A Grudge Against Society, Which He Documents With Accounts Of Unsatisfying Sex, Unrealized Ambition, Unmitigated Loneliness, And A Sense Of Local And Global Distress.

My Capacity For Having A Good Time Exists. It Surfaces, However, On Odd Occasions.

No One Ever Confides A Secret To One Person Only. No One Destroys All Copies Of A Document.

There Is A Difference, Of Course, Between Real Sentiment And The Trash Of Shared Experience.