Love

I have often pondered the meaning of romance and come to similar conclusions. I always sought out the over-the-top, highfalutin, Shakespear kind of love but real love, i never got to know until marriage.

A girlfriend can be let go or even leave you at the drop of a hat but once you're married, you begin to relax a little about the wooing of your companion  and are able to enjoy them in a kind of way you could never do with a date or anybody else. In this kind of relationship, you can really love someone.

Now what does that mean? What is love? From looking back on my past, i might have told you that it's a powerful motivator, an overwhelming feeling in your soul or even a death without them, life has no meaning otherwise, sort of thing. In earnest, I would say that there are many different kinds of love, the most powerful being the relationship between a parent and child because let's face it, you aren't getting sex, money, status or a lot of the time, even a thank you from your kid.

The relationship there is so awkward for grown kids that sometimes parents and kids don't even talk for long periods of time but from the moment you hold that baby in your arms and know that you're his/her whole world for the rest of their lives and yours, you're hooked. It's hard to even think about without tears because a parent will struggle with this mutated copy of themselves for the remainder of their time on earth. Have two or three or 14, which was the highest number of kids in a family I've ever met, and you can forget about it. Your heart will break and mend so many times that you will eventually transcend anything that resembles something as primitive as arm in arm, smitten love.

This, coincidentally, brings me to my purpose for this essay, of sorts, which is the discussion of real love versus being "in love." Being, "in love," requires very little commitment and it's as easily shattered as forgetting to duck in a boxing match.  It hits you in the face, when it shatters, with about the same amount of speed and force too. What I've realized about true love, however, is that the common denominator crosses different kinds of love.  You may not always like the other person. In fact, there may be times where you sincerely feel that you downright hate them; sometimes you won't show affection and sometimes you won't talk and/or show affection for a very long time but the bottom line is that true love comes back. A parent could get into a fight with their kid for years but if that kid comes back to their parent and says, "I love you, mom/dad," garentee they'll say it back at least 90% of the time. This is because, you can't say, "no he/she was never my mom or dad" you can't say there was never anything there because it's biological, that never changes. Husbands and wives can get divorced but a child ties them together forever. In real love, there's not as much fanfare and more being at the table after all the bombs have dropped.

My wife and i don't always cuddle like boyfriends and girlfriends do. In fact, she has problems with claustrophobia but that's ok because our legs touching or her foot on mine is a representation of that intimacy that is more powerful than the boyfriend/girlfriend crush. In real love, a fight can be had that dwarfs WWII and still you will be kissing them again and not be worried that it's your last time.  This is not to say that you shouldn't live every day as if it's your last or give up on wooing your spouse but real love needs no constant stream of fireworks, it simply works. As water will always flow in the streams and rain will always fall; As the sun will always rise and that guy who steals your parking spot when your having a flawless day will always come screeching in, engine running, love lives and breaths as life does. That's why real love can suck or be great but it's more than a kiss or a cuddle, it's the stubborn power of timelessness but don't take my word for it...

Gonzo sleep routine

After midnight and severe sleep deprivation sets it. I turned on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which, just simply watching it, is like being hopped up on a cocktail of different psychadelic drugs but mixed with the lack of sleep and anxiety attack; it's like slipping into a dream going  unfathomably fast in a helicopter.

All concept of gravity and direction goes awry while the concept of reality melts away in front of you like an ice block in front of a portable heater.

All of a sudden, you wish you had drugs because they'd be a reprieve from the psychosis of sobriety and reality.

I need to write. Escape into a reality that's not this waking nightmare but at the moment writer's block hits like a jealous ex.

I need a different hit to induce lethargy and unconsciousness. Donnie Darko for the death sleep? That dreamless sleep or lively sleep full of such dreams that explode nonsensically without order or reason and cannot be disturbed by the noise from reality that makes the stir of an unabashed neutron bomb? Wake up wifette? Go upstairs? Get out! Sleep. Nothingness. I'll wake up when the world makes sense again.