
The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one's own.
Willa Cather (1873 – 1947)
A pessimist and an undercover pisshead bitter about the faults inherent in reality. A hopeless romantic that's been worn away by those she loves. Formerly ambitious and driven but no longer able to ignore the fact that class structure and old money means she will always be a non-entity, a good natured soul that has realised that one good turn usually deserves a massive punch to the metaphorical kidney. Basically a bitter jaded fucker who tends to drone on in a self absorbed way about how catastrophic life is – usually offensively – because she realises it is far better to get things of her chest than pick up a sniper’s rifle and shoot whoever gets in her way through the chin.

The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one's own.
Willa Cather (1873 – 1947)
'Do you tend to find fishfingers a little disappointing?'
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