till love do us apart.
“out of the arm of one love
and into the arms of another”
-Charles Bukowski
Bukowski knew exactly what he was talking about when he wrote this.
i dont. but i like to think that i do.
but what it most reminds me of is how much we need to lie to ourselves to tolerate our everyday thoughts. we wake up in denial, walk around in distrust and go to sleep with cynicism. and through all of that, we keep constantly reminding ourselves of how life could be so much worse. and therefore consider our present lives a blessing of sorts. what we never give enough thought to is if its enough.
do you have enough? do you want enough? do you think enough? do you laugh and cry enough? do you praise enough? do you aim high enough? do you demand enough? do you expect enough? do you curse enough? do you love and hate enough?
somebody once reflected that you keep talking about how people disappoint you all the time. and then, how, one day you wake up and realise that you are the disappointment.
the world is preoccupied with trying to be perfect. there is no problem with that. my cynical point is that we don’t need perfection. but don’t we all want what we don’t need ?
U2 once sang…
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And Im waiting for you
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away”
and in this constant search for what we cannot have, we realise, on the way somewhere, that we don’t want what we can have. so we reject. reject thoughts, possibilities, people, love and chances. unconsciously, we reject that perfection that we all seek. we walk around believing in the undeniable beauty of this world and of our lives. but the truth is that we lie to ourselves. isn’t truth the beauty? or is it the other way around?
makes me wonder why all the obstacles on the way become more important than the end. obstacles like courage, truth, beauty, circumstance, people and thoughts. if the end is complete happiness, aren’t the obstacles only a means to an end?
yes, but isn’t the journey always more exciting? the chase. the wonder. the dream. the “maybe”.
i sit here and think of many “maybe s” and i know i can never tire of asking,
where have all the poets gone? where are all the day dreams? where are the princes?
where are you?
I wish one day I can own such a popular blog as yours.