…love is a strange disease…


…love is a strange disease…

by Matthew Brewes on Tuesday, July 17, 2007 at 8:30pm
…why disease you may ask?…well, like a disease, one cannot control what one loves, nor how intensely…you cannot fight love, it consumes, controls, enflames, engulfs, destroys…you may try to deny it with every last breath in you, but it will always be there, whether you like it or not…it is a beautiful disease, and quite a necessary one, do not mistake this as a diatribe against love…I would never be so nieve…the human beast needs love…it is a driving force, just like it’s sister, hate…but I’m sure that you are all familiar with this…there is probably nothing I can say about love that has not already been written, or watched, or played out on stage or in living rooms, backrooms, bedrooms, street corners in hearts and minds…you all know love…so why these words?…because maybe I love them…if you love something, set it free, right…it would be a torture to allow these words to suffer in silence within me…and so I write…but what can I truly say about love…a cruel mistress, and a cold, a ravaging, fire-winged hell cat on crack with a vicious sense of irony and an exquisite taste in pain…certainly…but also a balm, heart’s ease, a little of joy, a little of sadness, the pinnacle, the Rapture…all of these things so intertwined that an actual deffinition is next to impossible…we’ve been trying to do it for millenia…trying to pin down love, fit it into meter and rhyme, squeezing the life out of it in dry, sterile tomes of philosophy, catching some pale shadow of it on thin strips of celluloid…but it will know no prison, allow no one mouth to name it fully…love is…and that is all…I suppose that is the single truth, the one constant…love exists, we fall willingly or fall victim either way, it’s always a very long way down and you almost never really wanted to stand up anyway, just on the edge, looking down…I will never once, ever, regret having loved…no matter the cost, the pain, the madness I will never say “I would that I had not loved”…there have been many I have loved, some who know, many, oh so many more who don’t and never will know how they crept on silent feet into my heart and made me love them…they will always be there, with me, breathing with me, seeing thru my eyes, speaking with my lips…and I would have it no other way…I would not spare myself one ounce of agony, one single tear, would not trade the anguish, despiar, jealousy, rage, lust, fear for one moment…I would gladly suffer all of love’s barbs and spears and wicked, cruel blades…why?…because along with all of the horrible things love will do to you, or thru you on the other side is something more than yourself…a feeling so big it cannot be encompassed, something so pure it would never allow itself to be explained, defined, lashed down and caged, it can only be felt, a fire that as it consumes makes it’s fuel happy that it is burning, in fact willingly set itself on fire just to be consumed…for all of the absolute fucking misery love has brought me, it has also brought me joy in equal measure…cliche to say it, but none-the-less I believe it…laugh if you will…call me what you will, fool, romantic, hopless devotee to an archaic and uselss emotion, a weakness…for so do many concieve of love…all I know is, in the end, when the curtain comes down and the house lights are dark I will be glad that I have loved…no qualifying statement, just that, glad to have loved as strongly, as madly, as passionately and fully as it ever was in me to be, I loved with all of my strength, every time and I am happy for it…so, these are but some of my thoughts on love…pitiful, rambling, pale shadows cast by such a bright, hot flame, after images burned into retina blinded by somthing at once beautiful and terrible…if you have found even one thing of worth in them in this too I will be glad…and I hope you too will love without hesitation, without reservation and with no apology…
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