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I don't like Pinter. I know very well that I don't have any inclination towards Pinter. But here I am, wondering why on earth I committed to reading this particular work of his. Maybe it was a moment of curiosity that got the better of me. Or perhaps it was a challenge I set for myself to try and understand something that I initially disliked. Whatever the reason, I find myself now faced with the task of delving into Pinter's writing, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I might discover something that will change my perspective. But as I start reading, I can't help but feel a sense of resistance. His style seems foreign and difficult to penetrate. The words don't flow easily, and the meaning seems to be hidden beneath layers of complexity. Yet, I am determined to persevere and see if there is anything worthwhile to be found within these pages. Maybe this will be a journey of self-discovery as much as it is a exploration of Pinter's work. Only time will tell if I will come to appreciate Pinter or if my initial dislike will remain unchanged.