Charlie Del

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This was the telescoping nature of human endeavor. All the flailing around, the mad activity—going to parties, falling in love, buying houses, striving at work—could be smashed like a soda can into this flat fact: we have children so they can have children so they can have children. I had a blast of vertigo, as when you look into a puddle and see the stars falling away behind your head.
Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids
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