Monday, January 12, 2015

I don't think I have encountered a bigger oxymoron in terms of conflicting emotions than the one expressed in this snippet. Love, when platonic, is sans lust. And yet these words irreversibly mix the two. Although the final representation is worthy of literary respect, it leaves a strong after taste, almost like shooting a really dark scotch- you do feel high, but without really experiencing the flavor. But would you even want to experience a flavor you don't really like? 

Oxymoron or irony? 

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