Inner Heart

I Started, and Then, Well, I Stopped

There is nothing stupider in all of creation than a male-identifying human being over-complicating something as pure and wonderful as the emotion of love.

Two disclaimers before I begin in earnest well, not really earnest.

1. I say male-identifying because that is what I am and I can only speak for that which I know. To do otherwise is even stupider than what I am going to try and write about here in a minute.
2. Obviously these are my thoughts on the subject and your mileage, as with all things, may vary greatly from mine on the topic.

Now that we have those out of the way, I want to say what I think about love.

It is a thing I have thought about extensively for truly as I can remember having thoughts deeper than what was for dinner that night. I have been in love with love for just as long. Not the chemical part, although everyone enjoys that part. No, the theory and the philosophy of it. The romantic and platonic, the friend and the lover, the father and the son.

I believe that love is a flower with a million different blossoms and no one person sees them all and no one person sees any of them precisely the same as another does. We are as individual as the petals of each blossom and that is the simplest thing in the world for me to understand.

We cannot all be the same. We cannot feel the same things. What is the fucking point in feeling if it is the same thing over and over again? What are the point of beauty and love and all the beautiful things if we all see the same blue sky instead of a Starry Night? Heard a piano instead of Beethoven?

We are creatures that are shaped and molded by dead stars, evolved from a slimy scum on diseased water, possess what we believe to be the greatest machines in all of the universe in our brains and you want all of us to think, sound smell, laugh, cry and fuck the same?

No thank you.

I won’t try to explain what love is, even I am not that fucking conceited as to think I can explain a cornerstone of human civilization in a blog post I am only writing because I am very mad and thought writing about something nice would help calm me down.

In fact…

Just remind me to maybe do this another day…


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