Saturday, January 29, 2011

I am brooding over those magical momemts when we embraced, listened to Paul Cardall and wept. What marvelous moments. My teardrops were utterly shed in magical confusion. Why did I weep - I am obliged to ask this of myself.  

I wept under the immensity of the moment. I was rendered insignificant in her arms, saddened by the inevitability of separation, overwhelmed by the scent of her skin, absorbed im the magic of the music of my feelings for her, inspired by the prospect of a better future, and in want of salvation from past mistakes. 

I believe this to be a representation of 'love'. This may not make sense at all, but is this not the very idea of being in love? Is it not that the very confusion over this beautiful and magical incident is what makes love ever sweeter and more desirable? 

I remember one day when I was thinking about love, trying very hard to make sense of this most precious of human capabilities, I came up with a formula based on my past mistakes: love is a potion made from selflessness,  immense hope,  great optimism, and passion with a final touch of lust. 

But still, this is still an effort to try to make sense of love. well, if I should feel so confident about my potion, then I have absolutely underestimated Woody Allen who, with all his genius, has been trying to define love - evermore in vain - over decades. So far his conclusion has been 'whatever works'. So maybe when I was weeping in her arms out of sheer confusion, it was my way of showing love. Maybe not. whatever that might have been, it seems to be working out. I'm in love and it matters. 


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home