Posted: Nov 18, 1857 7:31 PM
During my daily frequents to the pubs lined along the damp, dreary streets of London, I often witness bright young men, with rosy cheeks, slow their lives to a halt in the arduous pursuit of love, buying flowers and starving for the scent of someone they naively think they love. It is true that plain women are quite useful as they build a man’s reputation if they bother to take them to dine for a night. But otherwise, marriage and serious relationships of the sort, is the state in which men enter because they are exhausted of all their worth, and where the woman try their luck, but in truth, both are rather disappointed. Women are indeed the decorative sex. To put it plainly, the only thing they excel in is wringing all the joy out of a man’s life by boring them to depression, and even then, the onslaught continues. But of course, one must be careful to be kind to their lady. Because if not, they will be quite a nuisance when they beg other men for favors. “You shall always be the love of my life.”, what nonsense! Rarely does one spouse know the whereabouts of another, and even then, either are deterred. A man declares love to one woman but then proceeds to chase another a month later. Women use the word “forever” in every romance they encounter, spoiling it by trying to make it last. The real tragedy in romance is that it leaves one so unromantic. Love leaves as spontaneously as it arrived. It is those that are faithful that have truly given up on love and the will to discover all of it’s beautiful tragedies. To my young readers, I advise you all to never marry. It is the most drab of existences. Always remain faithless, as it is then that love shall always be fresh and exciting, beautiful yet intoxicating.