Life is a publicity stunt. A shill. You've been had.
I was supposed to be women's lib, and now I'd exceeded it and gone over into international politics.
Mother had committed me for life. This is where I felt betrayed the most.
Hostility is expressed in a number of ways. One is laughter.
The worst part about prostitution is that you're obliged not to sell sex only, but your humanity. That's the worst part of it: that what you're selling is your human dignity. Not really so much in bed, but in accepting the agreement - in becoming a bought person.
It would appear that love is dead. Or very likely in a bad way.