dolorous interludes.

For Hui.

We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept- our own selves- that we love. This is true in the whole gamut of love. In sexual love, we seek our own pleasure via another body. In non-sexual love, we seek our own pleasure via our own idea. The masturbator may be abject, but in point of fact, he's the perfect logical expression of the lover. He's the only one who doesn't feign and doesn't fool himself.

Stumbled across this lovely piece of writing that coincided very neatly and exactly my thoughts on Love. As my waking hours pass me by, i am beginning to think that Love cannot be a part of my treasure map of stars. Love does not exist, for me at least. But for you my dear girl, i sense deep within myself that you will find your Love some day, or, that Love shall find you, even as you retreat into your own little corner. Love shouldn't be exclusive, but how it eludes me, i never cease to wonder. You deserve only the best my dear, don't lose heart for now, it may come shining down on you when you least expect it.

posted by voyeur @ 10/28/2004 09:44:00 PM