the thing about love
the thing about love:
is that it poses an eternal quandry of the difference between the Who and the Wot.
Wot is love?
is it the love of something or someone?
do we love someone for the absolute singularity of wot that someone is? or do we love the qualities?
do we love the someone ("i love you because you are ‘YOU’")
or something ABOUT someone ("i love you because you of your temperament, your HOT-ness, your intellect, or perhaps because you are HUNG like a HORSE" etc.) ?
but once we try to answer that, we run into intractable problems of being. because the question is, in fact,
- is it possible to love someone, as opposed to merely the characteristics of that one?
- wot does it mean to love someone, as opposed to loving something about someone?
the question of Being - lies at the core of so much of philosophy/intuition/religion/ethics: not Being for itself, but Being for others.
for love. consequences. implications.
its why relationships are so contained unto themselves:
why in discussing a relationship w an Other (not involved in it),
conveyance seems insurmountable.
no story will do total justice to the inside being of a relationship: better, surely, to say nothing, or risk, inevitable prevarication, thus
presenting your listener w a perjurious alembic.
silence, then.
the sort of silence ive snagged on so very, many times; whilst on the verge of articulating some infinitely convoluted thought-process, and end up shrugging - " NO. never mind ".
truth exists, true representation DOES NOT, and CANNOT.
and because it has always already begun,
because it exists inherently within any act, any experience, any memory thereof;
representation has no end.
of course, we cannot be infinitely silent. indeed so.
i have more faith in language as a bearer of "meaningful meaning", than that.
it’s why making connections shake me to my core.
why are friend’s or lover’s understanding means so much.
and, why love means even more.
its writing that speaks my mind,
its art that conveys emotions sans language, formlessly - why these things bring me so much jubilation.
its that in spite of the unutterable futility of representation and the inevitability of meaning attenuation, in spite of all the insurmountable odds in the way of someone understanding, that someone can, and does.
or so we hope.
and therefore we need to believe.
