This is an impromptu blog: something I've never tried before.
I'm trying to remind myself that this can be seen by whoever deems my blog visually appealing enough to stick around and read something.
Jeff Buckley's music got my tears flowing this evening because GOD that man's tunes were beautiful, may he rest in peace.
It got me thinking, as I frequently do, about love. Love love love, Love is All You Need, Love is a Battlefield, Love is -a homeless guy searching for treasure in the middle of the rain and finding a bag of gold coins and slowly finding out that they're all filled with chocolate and even though he's heartbroken he cant complain cause he was hungry in the first place- ... okay that last one was a Bo Burnham... hehe.
I wish I could compose amazing songs like Ingrid Michaelson does. Her songs so well reflect my feelings on most occasions!
Love befuddles me. I trip on my words and I float off the ground a bit, I'm sure. I smile without knowing it, and certainly without knowing how to stop. I ache and burn with this love, it must be a curse. It must be.
GOD, NO. How could I be cursed to feel the most amazing of warm, giggle inducing comforts? I lose my mind in embraces and all worries and doubts are erased.
Oh but the curse; ah, what a curse it is. The curse that many people have- to become so completely trusting of the person you are infatuated with that when they step out of your life or turn on you, you are crumbled down to square one, where you have to rely on yourself and your friends to build back the entire foundation you once stood on. The foundation you were on when you haplessly and voluntarily stepped off and fell in a mucky bog of love. Oh don't worry. It was their fault, the one who you fell for. They were there, goshdarnit! How could you help yourself? How could one who is sane refuse such bliss as was promised there?
None, of course. Don't be ridiculous. What nonsense.
They tempted you, they saw you fall, they smiled at you and made you feel amazing as you fell. Then, they stood slightly to the left and stared as you splattered face first into this new cold stone pit you find yourself in.
woopsie. They didn't see you falling so fast, OBVIOUSLY.
Well now, this is awkward. You have this face of yours splattered all over the place with nothing to show for your time in the air. So, as in any awkward situation, they turn on their heel and pretend they did not just see that happen (for your benefit, of course. Wouldn't want you to get embarrassed...).
I have gotten very tired, writing this. Nostalgia is one unkind little female dog.
I am actually not too cynical, contrary to the theme of this post. Love will persist. Love will remain supreme. Love is the reason for continuing.
I am going to try and live as I have; for the pitter patter in my heart and the peace of mind that takes control of me when I am so helplessly mired in love.