Can you please tell me exactly what “a bundle of contradictions” is? What does “contradiction” mean?
Like so many words, it can be interpreted in two ways: a contradiction imposed from without and one imposed from within.
The former means not accepting other people’s opinions, always knowing best, having the last word;
in short, all those unpleasant traits for which I’m known.
The latter, for which I’m not known, is my own secret. As I’ve told you many times, I’m split in two.
One side contains my exuberant cheerfulness, my flippancy, my joy in life and, above all, my ability to appreciate the lighter side of things.
By that I mean not finding anything wrong with flirtations, a kiss, an embrace, an off-color joke.
This side of me is usually lying in wait to ambush the other one, which is much purer, deeper and finer.
No one knows Anne’s better side, and that’s why most people can’t stand me.
Oh, I can be an amusing clown for an afternoon, but after that everyone’s had enough of me to last a month.
Actually, I’m what a romantic movie is to a profound thinker — a mere diversion, a comic interlude,
something that is soon forgotten: not bad, but not particularly good either.
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