Over the years, my friend has developed a philosophy — you could almost call it a religion — about pursuing the sublime through love. This philosophy is so complex and so convincing that she can not only persuade herself of its reality, but you or me too if we sit still long enough to listen to her. She is mesmerizing. At the same time, the experience is bone-numbingly tedious, watching her transit from one great love to the next, with each drama playing out to exactly the same cadence, and each one culminating in exactly the same dead end. My friend knows this is Resistance. We've talked
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