Well, I don't know whether the book talk is this... but I certainly intend to talk about books. One in particular. And sadly, it will be without the input of the Voice.
I just finished reading a friend's blog. And ugh. I just want to hug him and beat up everyone who fucks him over, especially one specific someone. I mean, it's his birthday in a few days. And he deserves to have a great one, you know? But instead, it looks like he's gonna be swimming in shit. Upstream.
I don't know most of his friends. I only know them by reputation. But to me, it sounds like every one of them wants something from him. Except maybe his best friend. And especially that one special person he is besotted with. She likes his besottedness. She likes the attention. Does she actually give a flying fuck about him? I think not. Maybe a passing thought, but no more. I don't care what he says. I've known her a hell of a lot longer than he has.
Obsession, obsession. I could tell when she was online even before I had her on my MSN list because our conversations would suddenly go from rapid-fire responses to waiting a good 5-10 minutes for each response. Like right now, come to think of it. And I could almost smell the almost unconscious annoyance whenever I'd send a couple of messages one after the other, because he'd be having a convo with his belle and even that one little distraction (or several, depending how many other people were online) is an annoyance.
Why do twits have such power? To confuse and depress and tear apart relationships and friendships, to cause mood swings and irrational actions, all for supposed love? Not even of an amazing person, but for love of ... well... a twit.
Not that my friendships are beings destroyed by twits. The only way that the whole situation really bugs me is in how I can see it hurting my friend. And hey, I've been the one being hurt before. He really doesn't need the stress of friends' problems on top of his own.
The whole thing makes me think of the book I'm reading... Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey. I've read the entire series before, and I fell immediately in love. In fact, that's the premise of the entire world the book is built on: Love as thou wilt. The first and most important precept.
But what of this love? If indeed he truly loves her. I'm sorry... but I don't think so. It's an obsession, an infatu$ation... but love? Aside from the whole basic unlikelyhood of it all... I watch people. It's what I do, to enforce a cliche. And listening to him, talking to him... It's like a contradiction in motion. Except for his declarations (and obvious actions), it's like... I don't know how to explain. But patently obvious (to me at least) that's it not a deep emotion. An uber strong one, mayhap... but not a deep one. Even the fact that we can laugh and joke about twits and cows and such says a lot.
Love as thou wilt. But what of pain? Does it mean to love no matter what, to continue to love when there's no hope and the person hurts you as much as they bring you joy?
Of course, Phedre (the main character of Kushiel's Dart) is an anguissette... that means that she feels pleasure and pain as one. And man, does that make for a fucked up life, especially since she's a prostitute. And to make a long story short, that's not a bad thing in Terre d'Ange.
But yes. Back to the topic at hand. One thing I very much like about Phedre is that she sees herself clearly, with little dissembling. She also accepts herself, though she occasionally hates her nature. One thing that she admits and accepts, is love. Of course, her patrons hurt her. Literally, I mean. S &M cica, she is, because of the whole anguissette thing. Yet just as the pain is pleasure, she loves each of her patrons, at least a little bit.
I don't think that's just because she's an anguissette. I think that all of us love those who cause us pain, if only a little. Even if we don't admit it.
Which brings an even more disturbing question to light... mayhap part of the reason he loves her is because she hurts him? Now, before you all get on my case with the vehement objections, think about it. And I mean really thing about it, without automatically assuming the seemingly obvious response.
The opposite of Love isn't Hate. They're both such strong emotions, and they're really not all that different. They're both passion. Really, the opposite of both of them is indifference. It's easy to hurt someone who loves you, but nigh impossible to hurt someone who doesn't give a shit either way. But that's not the point I'm making here, since I already did that rant a year ago.
What I'm trying to say, in my own struggling way, is that since Love/Hate are so close, it's easy to confuse them. I hate everything about you... why do I love you? That song says it all. The heart holds no bounds. Love as thou wilt.
But then, I don't hate anyone. True, I have moments where I despise things, but I also have moments of absolute love. And the love moments outweight the hate ones.
Wandering away from the point again, sorry.
When you love someone or something, you give it power over you. Power to hurt you, power to manipulate you. You can hate it, a little, for that power. And hate? Well, to quote Angel, "hate feels good, doesn't it? Simple." Just feeling pure emotion is amazing, even if it's pure sorrow or hate. It's easy to become addicted to emotion. That's what depression is, I think. An addiction to negative emotion. Would anyone stay depressed if there wasn't some love it in? I don't think so. And yes, I've been there. I'm not crazy. I mean it.
Oh, and forget what I said before. I don't think there's going to be a Twit rant. She doesn't deserve it, really. This, and maybe a rant on what attracts guys to Twits in general, is about as close as I think it's going to come. Remember the whole opposite-of-love-is-indifference thing? It's a lot like the whole thing with my father. I don't hate him. I don't care enough about him to hate him. That's why I don't really speak of him on my blog. He's not that important. It's ditto for the twit. When I first knew her, I didn't hate her either. I didn't care enough about her to hate her. She wasn't important enough to care about. I pitied her a little for that, and for her insecurities. I think that upon reading this, Besotted Boy will too. Maybe even use it as justification for his feelings.
That reminds me of another misconception of love. People often mistake pity for love. Or they pride themselves on loving the outcast, or the underdog. I myself have been guilty of that more than once in my life. Not taking pride in it, but believing I loved someone when I actually felt sorry for them. A hint: you're not doing them a favour. Nor are you doing somebody a favour when you make excuses for their faults, whether consciously or unconsciously. Because in essence, by doing that you're vindicating their actions, like a parent rewarding a child for doing wrong. And for the love of the goddess, sometimes the outcast isn't 'misunderstood'. Sometimes nobody likes them for a good fucking reason *coughjaredcough*.
Again, off-topic.
Hm. Love as thou wilt. Okay, how's this. I still agree with this basic precept. But let's clarify things. First of all, try to know Love from infatuation, or obsession, or whatever. And don't think that you need only love one person at a time. I'm not saying that you should go and be unfaithful. But just as you can love life and love someone else, one love is not more important than another. You can love your best friend as much as your significant other. You can love more than one significant other at a time. You can love, truly love, your enemies, if only a little bit. You can love money. You can love material objects. And guess what? It's not a bad thing. Obsession is. But obsession isn't love. There can be a fine line... sometimes it's an invisible line... but there's still the line.
I wish some of my friends could see that line. Hell, I wish I could see that line, sometimes.
Love as thou wilt.
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