Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows

“Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows. Man lies in the woman’s womb only to gather strength, he nourishes himself from this fusion, and then he rises and goes into the world, into his work, into battle, into art. He is not lonely. He is busy. The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid gives him energy, completion. Woman may be busy too, but she feels empty. Sensuality for her is not only a wave of pleasure in which she is bathed, and a charge of electric joy at contact with another. When man lies in her womb, she is fulfilled, each act of love a taking of man within her, an act of birth and rebirth, of child rearing and man bearing. Man lies in her womb and is reborn each time anew with a desire to act, to be. But for woman, the climax is not in the birth, but in the moment man rests inside of her.”

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

Deși-l pun pe blog, e unul dintre citatele care mă revoltă cel mai tare. Poate de aceea îl și pun, pentru neasemuita lui putere de a mă agrava. Sufletele sunt la fel, bărbații și femeile suferă la fel de singurătate, de pierdere, de trădare. Nu e nicio diferență. Iar climaxul femeii nu stă-n luare în posesie, în penetrare. Ci-n apartenență. Precum și cel al bărbatului. Toți vrem să aparținem cuiva, să fim matorii intimi ai vieții cuiva și cineva să ne fie matori nouă. În oglinda ochilor lor să ne confirmăm existența.

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