Just like in late antiquity.

As little as I can abide people living ugly lives around me, it is imperative to tolerate those less sensitive to beauty, and more tolerant of tedium. Wine, beef, tobacco, silk, spices and other countless pleasures are brought to my door thanks to the misery of office workers.

Does anyone want to come over and go on a long and pointless adventure together, preferably in the desert, a journey of no glory but at least with clarity of purpose: to wander, to start walking and never stop?

The point is: I imagine this is the regular course of many marriages, international or not.

As to his wife's emotional state: it’s evident in the earlier episodes that his errors are considered "cute." In the intermediate period, it sours somewhat to annoyance and disbelief, while in the very latest, it resolves into a happy acceptance.

And while the husband's Spanish has improved, his wife, nonetheless, still has to correct his errors for the benefit of listeners, like myself. He must now have spent at least 15 years living in Spain without reaching a level that one might term "proficient".

To elaborate: The podcast evidently began when the English husband had spent relatively little time with the language, though his "fluency" amounted mostly to being able to hold a conversation. The podcast has now reached something like a decade or more of existence.

I'm listening to a long-standing Spanish podcast hosted by an Englishman with bumbling, defective Spanish and his Spanish wife. In the short period of time I have been able to listen to these podcasts, I have entered into an intimate understanding of his wife's emotional states.

Think of me when you log off

Most of you will fail miserably, whatever it is you intend to do.

“This is a sign of the apocalypse! That’s a sign of the apocalypse!” Yeah, dude, the apocalypse has been happening every second of every day since 1757!

Hey do you mind if I bring my army of feral thugs to the party? Their eyes are dim and hungry and they will cheer in unison at everything I say, beating their waraxes on iron shields, drowning out the voices of my detractors with their terrible fury.

People say “two timing” like it’s a bad thing, let’s admire the quiet perseverance, the muted rebellion, of people who try twice.

Being dreamt of is one of the more tender forms of love

https://t.co/ikDlTr1Osp

The homunculus who lives in my skull is working overtime to come up with an insightful and humorous tweet for you all. He’s rifling through file after file in a large metal file cabinet, only to find that all the contents have been replaced with thoughts of grapes… So sweet… so

The purest sexual act is to kill yourself.

It's a shame that the word "autistic" as a critique of tedious, linear, systems that drain out desire and quash all vitality has been ruined by the fact that there are some people who just have that shit on the brain.

You claim to love joy, and all things good, and yet you live in drudegery, and are miserable. Interesting.

How strange it is to be anything at all