Love doesn't exist in the way we all think it does. It is not a feeling one tunes into. It is not a destination or a goal. It is not a savior or solution. It is not nirvana. Love is a collection of moments that transcend their context to create something beautiful and intricate and complex and completely terrifying. It enters you and tears out your basic assumptions and turns you into someone you weren't before, and can leave at any moment without any warning, like a sunshower starts and stops. It makes you do stupid things and things that make you a better person. Love is a quantum cloud of electrons, a word whose meaning is impossible to chart, locate, or predict, but rather has to be assumed as all-inclusive, at once everywhere and nowhere.
Monday, May 25, 2009
On the horizon...
... exciting things.
From page 39 of my big collected Lord of the Rings edition:
"He gave presents to all and sundry... Hobbits give presents to other people on their own birthdays. Not very expensive ones, as a rule, and not so lavishly as on this occasion; but it was not a bad system."
From eMedecine:
"Somnambulism (sleepwalking) has been described in medical literature dating before Hippocrates (460 BC-370 BC). In Shakespeare's tragic play, Macbeth, Lady Macbeth's famous sleepwalking scene ("out, damned spot") is ascribed to her guilt and resulting insanity as a consequence of her involvement in the murder of her father-in-law.
...On questioning, [the somnambulist's] responses are slow with simple thoughts, contain non-sense phraseology, or are absent. If the person is returned to bed without awakening, the person usually does not remember the event."
~~~
eh? ehhhhh?
SC
old pic but appropriate
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