Having Changed

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When we talk about true love, we imply that there’s a fake love, a form of love that is in more abundance and therefore less valuable, less lasting and less satisfying. And maybe there is no true love. Maybe it’s a myth generated by addiction, like pure oil. Maybe we’re all just a bunch of monkeys running piano roll programs punched for us by our Dad’s balls, our mother’s ovaries and the summer of 1983