Romantics

The romantics—May they never grow up! Mother starves her servants while her children dream about meadows and milkmaids. They are still tied to the strings of her habit. If they have to starve for their art, so be it. She knows they need to suffer and gets off on it. One is lonely but too shy to meet anyone. One, always in pain, is addicted to painkillers. One is in love with a woman of the night but is deathly afraid of syphilis and the dark. One tears up everything he writes; he’s too sensitive and nothing’s good enough. Mother overlooks all their weaknesses. If they’ll never earn a living on their own, then that’s the way she wants it. They’ll always be dependent on her.