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Michael considered fate at 05:20   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment

Conjecture: You only have one chance at a great love.

Posit: this thing happens, love, in so much as we can identify feelings and emotions which make us feel a certain way.

Is red the colour red because it is or because you've decided it is. Does flowing water gurgle or is that just your way of thinking about it?

If in the feeling there is some measurable truth, some fuzzy logic about the whole thing, then nothing about it is climatic - it's more today, less tomorrow. Is the more, the maximum, the highest or purest of that feeling in your life the great love?.. If you're far from death then you're far from that fuzzy truth: how do you know that it isn't less today and more tomorrow?

And when it's your turn to experience this "Great Love" won't it be both the best and worst possible thing that could happen to you? You've summitted the greatest peak in the entire range. There is no higher high. You've got no more records to set except to find that lowest low and crawl way down deep inside it.

And from there on out, climbing down from that peak, your heartbeat feels like tiny blips on a radar. Far away and distant, cold, and monochromatic. The juicy center of a normal distribution, the long tails streaming out to either side into small thin lines of nothingness. Just a slow rythmic beat. Nothing siesmic, no building temors, nothing.

just:

blip... blip... blip... blip