I write these primarily for myself so I can look back on these and reflect. I never imagine anyone else really interested in knowing what in the hell goes on in my random day. I shouldn't expect to either should I? Not until recently. I met an amazing girl named Chelsea and I thought to share with myself the story of how love exists independently of itself and is not something that is static but more so active and unequivocally existing in and of itself.
Most of you could likely roll your eyes at this point and sigh saying, "Here this guy goes into the amazingness of love thing..." while also thinking that this read is a complete utter waste of time. I would normally agree with you, but the story I have to share is something that proves the very existence of love itself.
I came from a very normal and regular background. I had the same typical upbringing most of us have had here in the states and got through and currently live in the normal societal hypnotization type atmosphere the majority of us go through here and through it all, fell in love twice. Deep, other worldly side of the rift sci-fi type of love. I really and truly thought that one time is all you got. I thought that the fact that I even had it once and was lucky enough to know what it was, was in fact enough.
The longer I felt that feeling not being a part of me, the more concrete it made for me the notion that love, true deep sacrificial love, was something only one person could experience, if they were extremely lucky, only once. Imagine my surprise when it just recently happened to me again. Beyond all the scientific data and processes of the chemical reactions inside my body going on, love exists in the fact that it is not just coming from the inside. It also comes as an external presence or pressure from the outside in. It permeates the air and surrounds you in a wonderfully hazy, illogical field.
It gives one a hope of sorts that in the end if it all burns down or goes away (because it will, we won't be able to stop it, we aren't meant to be timeless) love still exists.
Love is timeless and independent of us.
Most of you could likely roll your eyes at this point and sigh saying, "Here this guy goes into the amazingness of love thing..." while also thinking that this read is a complete utter waste of time. I would normally agree with you, but the story I have to share is something that proves the very existence of love itself.
I came from a very normal and regular background. I had the same typical upbringing most of us have had here in the states and got through and currently live in the normal societal hypnotization type atmosphere the majority of us go through here and through it all, fell in love twice. Deep, other worldly side of the rift sci-fi type of love. I really and truly thought that one time is all you got. I thought that the fact that I even had it once and was lucky enough to know what it was, was in fact enough.
The longer I felt that feeling not being a part of me, the more concrete it made for me the notion that love, true deep sacrificial love, was something only one person could experience, if they were extremely lucky, only once. Imagine my surprise when it just recently happened to me again. Beyond all the scientific data and processes of the chemical reactions inside my body going on, love exists in the fact that it is not just coming from the inside. It also comes as an external presence or pressure from the outside in. It permeates the air and surrounds you in a wonderfully hazy, illogical field.
It gives one a hope of sorts that in the end if it all burns down or goes away (because it will, we won't be able to stop it, we aren't meant to be timeless) love still exists.
Love is timeless and independent of us.
