Saturday, December 10, 2005


I hate people talking about love. Listening to it makes me want to talk back. Stick it to them: Does it thrice daily stab you in the kidneys? Does it take you out of yourself and make your own concerns trivial?

Especially the young. Someone should warn them. The real thing will sear the green branches. And it ravages any structure not built on a foundation of stone.

And then the fact that it demands a sacrifice.

Ancient cultures didn't burn animals on altars to decrease the surplus population. How many are you willing to hurt? It's them or you. Most likely them AND you. Either way, the flames don't rest until sated.

Then the falling out. Why mourn? It's only the proof that love never existed. "Love existed" means that Love exists. Don't take it out of context. Most people should just rejoice in the happy immitation for as long as it lasts. Look back on it fondly--it costs less and is easier to replace.

And it won't daily eat at your guts and whisper about death.


Blogger dmo said...

Duuuuude! If you're not going to burn any animals, will you pa-lease at least write your frickin' book. It's the only thing that's going to save you and me for that matter. I've not given up on you sir. Take that! I'll stop talking to you about love soon as you get up off your ass and dance or get up off your ass and write. Hemingway used to write standing up. So get up and stay up. I'm starting to sound perverse. On that note, I bid you goodnight.

10:23 PM  
Blogger s.k.namanny said...

Wow. Writing the book as burning the animal. You're too good, record store therapist.

Maybe EVERYTHING is the book. But you're right. And if the choice is between dancing and writing . . .

Don't worry about being perverse: Hemingway has that effect on a lot of people.

3:55 AM  
Blogger kirstie said...

The rock-foundation reference (a biblical one, I know) just took on new meaning for me. It was always taught to me that love would last if built on a mutual faith in God; now I see it for what it truely means. If you have love, forget skipping through wild flowers hand in hand -- you will be pummeled and tormented ceaselessly. Maybe I prefer a hut on a sandy beach in a sunny quiet spot -- alone.
My weak attempts are all clear now. Thank you s.k.

12:09 PM  
Blogger lukebible said...

ahhh love! what can the stars do.... nothing.

sorry, i got wraped up in my favorite charlie chaplin scene from limelight. pardon me, again.

scott, i just took the w.p.e. I will always remember your panache.

1:15 PM  
Blogger wendycoe said...

I hear ya' on the love drivel front, my friend. If I make it through from New Years to the dreaded February 14th without falling deeper into the mire of despair it will be a miracle. But really, I'm talking Eros type love, not the Agape we all feel when we see the trees change color or the Philia we get from close friends. Gotta love those Greeks! What kind are you complaining of??

And I agree with D-Mo, get off that ass and write!

Much math!!

9:56 AM  

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