a local college in the town where i grew up
Don’t make empty gestures. I want plain things, warm things. I’m so tired of your lack of everything thoughtful, wise about you. You act like a child, a child that just asks and asks and asks and never thinks and sucks one to death, and I’m sitting here just crying because it’s so hopeless to ever expect you to be otherwise. Above all, I am sad because it is always the same. Everything hopelessly the same. And rebellion. And a desire to run from it all to some real human love. At the bottom it’s because it’s only yourself that counts, your friends, your mood, your impulses…but all like a child’s, irresponsible, meaningless, without any depths.
― Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Henry Miller dated October 1934 (via c-ovet)