Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980; February 17th, 1970
Text ID: I don’t feel guilt at being unsociable, though I may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful. But when I move into the world, it feels like a moral fall—like seeking love in a whorehouse.
abusers be pretending they don’t understand something is wrong but then when you say it out loud in front of another person they’re like ‘how dare you say that, how dare you make me look bad’ oh excuse me you’re aware that was bad now? how interesting
