Current mood:

contemplative

Having spent the day reading the website of Jeanette Winterson, I've changed my mind about her. I still think her fiction's wonderful, but she comes across as too knowing. As a writer (her, not me), I don't think that a self-righteous streak can always serve to educate people. Perhaps my contempt for authority makes me kick against people telling me what to do, but I just think that people need to be left to make their own mistakes, & leading by example has always angered me. Then again, fiction is completely different from columns & blogs. I dunno, I wanted to love her as a person, but I just kept thinking that she seems so similar to some of the stupid knobs I've met in the past year. "Look at me, I'm a hippy, I'm better than you because I say so. Officially; I'm a good/caring/open person, but that's only applicable if you believe everything I do, don't comment on anything & don't do anything which is questionable by my own standards. PLUS, I'm right, so you're wrong! So there! Pass me the fucking crystal ball!!". Humour goes a long way in life, does that not matter anymore? Condemning someone because of their lifestyle choices just seems a little odd, & it works both ways.

ARGHHHHH.

I broke up with him last night, & it was fucking horrible, & it had to be done. I felt this huge rush of relief once it was all out in the open. OH, life! I'll quite happily read books & not fall in love again for the rest of my days, escapism isn't escapism if you're actually escaping, innit? Yes. You watch these films when you're little, & read the accompanying pamphlets, but what do you do when 'The One' fucks you over & then you can't trust him again? I don't care what anyone says, it just isn't worth losing respect for yourself in the hope that a man will change & won't cheat on you again. Only you can make yourself happy, everything else is just a plus.

SOAP BOX. OFF.