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The very thought of Virginia Wolf and Sylvia Plath evokes both hatred and compassion in me. (Now don’t ask me why and I am not going to explain it either.) At some point I even used to believe that Leonard Wolf and Hughes are angels and they didn’t deserve all the agony and woes.

I never wanted to place myself in any of these miserable souls’ shoes. But life had different plans for me. There were times when I lived the lives of Wolf and Sylvia forcefully and played the roles of Hughes and Mr. Wolf willingly.

The Sylvia Wolf path was designed for the tough ones and I realized I neither have the integrity nor the depth to tread the path. When the realization hit me I changed my game plan and started searching for a Sylvia Wolf to whom I can play Hughes and Mr. Wolf. And finally when I found one, especially after going through the hell with in the Sylvia Wolf being, I learned no Leonard and Hughes can contain any Sylvia Wolf. I had to stop this hatred game and accept the fact neither Leonard or Hughes are angels.

The fact is that the world has only two kinds of people-those who think Leonard and Hughes are self made angels and Wolf and Sylvia are madnesses that none can contain.

(No gay reading to this post will be tolerated)

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