So, I’ve left everyone hanging there for awhile now haven’t I? I’ve neglected my sweet little flock and left you wanting for genuine insight and pure, unadulterated cynicism.
But I must say that lately I can’t conjure up enough disgust with anything to warrant an entire entry. Could this mean that I am growing up, and slipping off of the cloud of youth that carries me over reality whilst allowing me a perfect view to examine, criticize, question and circumvent?
HEEEYYYY no!
But my thoughts do turn to that oh so dangerous and interdicted topic; love. Ah, sweet love. The proverbial bringer of the balm for our inherit loneliness and insecurity, or so we reassure ourselves. As many times as I have thought that I had it, is as many times as it has kicked the living crap out of me.
As cynical as I have always been on this subject, recent observations make my perception a little more hospitable of a nest for the idea of love. I truly realize how sweet the promise of this enticing entity can really be to someone who has reached that un-mapable point in their life that is as easy to remember as it is to predict.
The world really screams at us sometimes to live for ourselves, and in more ways than one take on the Narcissistic campaign of self-indulgence and hollow affirmations. I know that I have always felt like it would be a sign of vulnerability and weakness to give up anything for love; something so mysterious in its own right, whose only predictability is its eternal unpredictability. The catalyst in this mortal probation through which we get back a little of what we had before we all agreed to hop on this crazy roller coaster.
Why do we fear the realization of the thoughts and aspirations that are in fact the very fuel behind the motivation to trudge through the tedious errands of life? WHY?!
Perhaps it’s because it is so foreign; perhaps because it requires a surrender of control and self-preservation tactics which are relied on so heavily when love isn’t readily available. We have to put so much trust in another being whose thoughts we cannot know, and who is as vulnerable to change and catharsis as we are. Or maybe it’s just because we are scared to let go and free fall into something with the child-like naiveté that we’ll never hit the ground.
No matter how many times I get my ass handed to me by love, I can still cite one of my favorite songs in saying… “I love, love; I love being in love – I don’t care what it does to me!” Take it from Paul, ya’ll; suffering is the essence of life; and what sweeter suffering is there than being in love?!
It hurts. But nothing soothes the lovelorn as much as hope; which comes from the realization that they are worth far more than any label, good or bad, that could ever be put upon them. But don’t regret any of them, not a single one; you have no right to rob yourself of those experience which are ultimately they only things that you will take with you throughout your life. Claim those moments, and then put them away. So whether it lasts two weeks, two months or two years; fall in love. Why the hell not? Do it as many times as you possibly can. And that’s all I have to say about that.