Sarcasm... The Protest Of Those Who Are

As I Said, This Was My Sarcastic Summer. It Was Only Long After That I Recognized Sarcasm As The Protest Of People Who Are Weak.

What I Mean Is, I Love Winter, And When You Really Love Something, Then It Loves You Back, In Whatever Way It Has To Love.

Sarcasm... The Protest Of Those Who Are Weak.

So The More Things Remained The Same, The More They Changed After All. Nothing Endures. Not Love, Not A Tree, Not Even A Death By Violence.

This Was The Tree, And It Seemed To Me Standing There To Resemble Those Men, The Giants Of Your Childhood, Whom You Encounter Years Later And Find That They Are Not Merely Smaller In Relation To Your Growth, But They Are Absolutely Smaller, Shrunken By Age. In This Double Demotion The Old Giants Have Become Pygmies While You Were Looking The Other Way.