Tuesday, July 15, 2008

love explained...

"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

- Captain Corelli's Mandolin. "Love is the beauty of the soul."

Do you believe in love??


Organized Noise said...

I believe in love and I believe that true love will find me really soon. I just have to make sure I am ready when it gets here.

Skoolboi Krush said...

Can't believe you've got an Estelle song on here. LOL

"Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident."

That right there is the truth. The art of making things work when you can't imagine a life without that person.

Roddykat said...

Hmm, never heard it expressed that way. I like it! First sentence is so true.

I believe in love in more than one way. Will not expound. :)

Mizrepresent said...

I so believe in love!

Mr.Slish said...

Love is that sharp pain you feel right in the middle of your ass after your significant has placed a foot there for not believing hard enough....lol

Tony OH said...

Yes, I do believe in Love, I witnessed it at the Bloggers delight party between, you and Skool Boi...lol. Hope y'all are still going strong. Oh and before I forget!

Papa's got a brand new Bag!


Come see me!

Oh yeah, stop in at my original site, there's a complete explanation to why I've been missing in action!

Anonymous said...

Loves this post... But I don't believe in Love, not romantic love anyways, more the family and friends kind

I believe in dudes being in lust and telling us whatever as well as in men working to be in a relationship in contentment but not on the rest

rebecca said...

The Bight

At low tide like this how sheer the water is.

White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and glare

and the boats are dry, the pilings dry as matches,

Absorbing, rather than being absorbed,

the water in the bight doesn't wet anything,

the color of the gas flame turned as low as possible.

One can smell it turning to gas; if one were Baudelaire

one could probably hear it turning to marimba music.

The little ocher dredge at work off the end of the dock

already plays the dry perfectly off-beat claves.

The birds are outsize. Pelicans crash

into this peculiar gas unnecessarily hard.

it seems to me, like pickaxes,

rarely coming up with anything to show for it,

and going off with humorous elbowings,

Black-and-white man-of-war birds soar

on impalpable drafts

and open their tails like scissors on the curves

or tense them like wishbones, till they tremble.

The frowsy sponge boats keep coming in

with the obliging air of retrievers,

bristling with jackstraw gaffs and hooks

and decorated with bobbles of sponges.

There is a fence of chicken wire along the dock

where, glinting like little plowshares,

the blue-gray shark tails are hung up to dry

for the Chinese-restaurant trade.

Some of the little white boats are still piled up

against each other, or lie on their sides, stove in,

and not yet salvaged, if they ever will be, from the last bad storm.

like torn-open, unanswered letters.

the bight is littered with old correspondences.

Click. Click. Goes the dredge,

and brings up a dripping jawful of marl.

All the untidy activity continues,

awful but cheerful.

----- by cheap runescape gold