I wrote this post, but realized when I was re-reading it that the paragraphs do not flow together very well. They sort of stand there as individual thoughts and ideas, all sort of hovering around the themes of relationships and love. Almost a stream of consciousness, but not quite.
"You should come visit me." Another moth lured to the flame. "You live so far away though. I would want more." I sat there patiently, flickering, as she talked us into and out of potential.
The world of blog is odd. People read about you and get to know you, or a certain extent of you, and form opinions about you. Being that women often fall for my mind, it's an area fraught with uncertainty. Everything is theoretical in the world of cyberspace. The person you meet through this medium may become, and remain evermore, a person of your dreams.
I'm hoping for a date this weekend with the woman I am convinced does not exist. The Loch Nes Monster of our times, folks - beautiful, smart, funny, great conversationalist, everything one could want. I will be shocked if it happens. Somehow, these women are always somewhere I'm not. I swear, if I lived in Texas or the Midwest, they'd be in Florida. This is extremely pessimistic of me, but will likely fade into the shadow as the flame is stoked, but at the moment, the feeling resonates within me. Florida State University has one of the greatest ratios any man could want - something around 3 women to every 1 man. It is a college guy's dream. I went to Miami, where things are different. Perhaps I have always been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
My lack of optimism or my weariness of the dance are nothing knew. Many have expressed this thought in much more poetic ways than I am here. Ella Fitzgerald sang, "Turn off that charm; I'm through with love for awhile; I'm through and yet, you have a fabulous smile; So if I forget; Not to find you so attractive; Remind me; That the world is full of men". Jane Monheit echoed, "I'm through with love I'll never fall again; Said adieu, to love, don't ever call again; For I must have you or no one; And so I'm through with love". Finally, Billy Joel and Ray Charles threw their gloss on it, "As for woman; They don't last with just one man; But baby grand; Will stand by me". Clearly, I am not the only person to ever just want to hang the whole thing and say to hell with it all, I will become asexual and enjoy the company of other like minded amoebas. I, obviously, would be joining truly good company.
I have been reading some classic Mark Twain, as of late. I grew up loving Mark Twain. I think I wrote a biography, or did a project of some kind on the man, every year I was in junior high and high school. Reading him reminds me that some of the greatest minds and artists of our times had some really rough days. Losing his wife and children to disease. I cannot even imagine the loss he felt. I can barely imagine finding a wife, let alone losing her and our children. It is people like him that make me feel like a wimp. Bless his heart.
My best friend in college told me one night, "Love is pain." I stared at her. It was not a fanciful vision of love or a thought of how love solves everything. It was, in her estimation, an honest analysis. She was not trying to say that pain is the only thing love is, but was being honest in her recognition of the fact that in order to love, you will likely experience pain, among other things, along the way. I really respect that type of honesty.
*Published at the request of Kiki*
"You should come visit me." Another moth lured to the flame. "You live so far away though. I would want more." I sat there patiently, flickering, as she talked us into and out of potential.
The world of blog is odd. People read about you and get to know you, or a certain extent of you, and form opinions about you. Being that women often fall for my mind, it's an area fraught with uncertainty. Everything is theoretical in the world of cyberspace. The person you meet through this medium may become, and remain evermore, a person of your dreams.
I'm hoping for a date this weekend with the woman I am convinced does not exist. The Loch Nes Monster of our times, folks - beautiful, smart, funny, great conversationalist, everything one could want. I will be shocked if it happens. Somehow, these women are always somewhere I'm not. I swear, if I lived in Texas or the Midwest, they'd be in Florida. This is extremely pessimistic of me, but will likely fade into the shadow as the flame is stoked, but at the moment, the feeling resonates within me. Florida State University has one of the greatest ratios any man could want - something around 3 women to every 1 man. It is a college guy's dream. I went to Miami, where things are different. Perhaps I have always been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
My lack of optimism or my weariness of the dance are nothing knew. Many have expressed this thought in much more poetic ways than I am here. Ella Fitzgerald sang, "Turn off that charm; I'm through with love for awhile; I'm through and yet, you have a fabulous smile; So if I forget; Not to find you so attractive; Remind me; That the world is full of men". Jane Monheit echoed, "I'm through with love I'll never fall again; Said adieu, to love, don't ever call again; For I must have you or no one; And so I'm through with love". Finally, Billy Joel and Ray Charles threw their gloss on it, "As for woman; They don't last with just one man; But baby grand; Will stand by me". Clearly, I am not the only person to ever just want to hang the whole thing and say to hell with it all, I will become asexual and enjoy the company of other like minded amoebas. I, obviously, would be joining truly good company.
I have been reading some classic Mark Twain, as of late. I grew up loving Mark Twain. I think I wrote a biography, or did a project of some kind on the man, every year I was in junior high and high school. Reading him reminds me that some of the greatest minds and artists of our times had some really rough days. Losing his wife and children to disease. I cannot even imagine the loss he felt. I can barely imagine finding a wife, let alone losing her and our children. It is people like him that make me feel like a wimp. Bless his heart.
My best friend in college told me one night, "Love is pain." I stared at her. It was not a fanciful vision of love or a thought of how love solves everything. It was, in her estimation, an honest analysis. She was not trying to say that pain is the only thing love is, but was being honest in her recognition of the fact that in order to love, you will likely experience pain, among other things, along the way. I really respect that type of honesty.
*Published at the request of Kiki*
I'm very glad you decided to post this, because to my mind, it flows very well and articulates an honest observation of life as you see it at this moment. I know that you and I have one essentially large difference, but other than persuasion, we are not so different, you and I. Your friend was very correct, love is pain, BUT we go into it telling ourselves that "this time will be different"...perhaps it is the same insanity that convinces a woman to have multiple children. I lost my first and only love, perhaps no different than a husband, perhaps akin to Twain's wife. He had an undiagnosed cardiac disorder, and died in front of me. I was twenty-two years old. But, even knowing that I would lose, I would go back and suffer every moment of it again, because it was beautiful. It never really leaves you. And as far as the asexual thing goes, perhaps you jest, perhaps you do not: but I totally identify with it. It's almost as if, by tacit agreement, the whole thing now seems lost on me. Easier to live quietly, hidden away.
ReplyDeleteMan, I've rambled on, but your post inspired reflection. I do enjoy your writing, because it has substance. Thank you for sharing it.
I always love Ari's comments....
ReplyDeleteAnyway love is picking an eye booger out of the other's eye. It's not always pretty is what I mean. But theres nothing like it. Right?
But it can also be beautiful...
K, I post it at your request, and Ari gets the love. Tough room, mang.
ReplyDeleteAri, thanks for your comment. I really like your comments too.
Awww J, I love your posts. That's why I'm an avid reader!!!! That goes without saying!
ReplyDeleteLove is painful, but most good things are. You can't appreciate true happiness unless you have experienced sadness.
ReplyDeleteI like the way The Jay Giles Band described it when they summed it all up:
ReplyDeleteLove Stinks! na na, da da, na na Love Stinks!
Actually falling in love is great. Being in love, now that is very messy, very nasty, and I recommend it highly to everyone who likes pain, regret, and suffering. The rewards for enduring it are said to be extreme in the end. I hope they are right.