11.07.2006
i love prose <3
Willingly, gladly, joyously handicapped. A mercurial sprinter happily tying a bag of cement to his left leg so he can race with fairness to the competition, because he loves the race, not the winning.
Love can do that. It can make you dull those savage aspects of your nature so you become more nakedly ready to accept goodness from your love-partner. It is even more pro-survival, if one accepts the theory that life is a string of boredoms, getting-alongs, sadnesses and just plain nothing-happening times, broken up by gleaming pearls of happiness that get us through the crummy stretches on that string.
Weakness becomes strength.
(Harlan Ellison: introduction to Love Ain’t Nothing But Sex Misspelled)
We fall in love because we long to escape from ourselves with someone as beautiful, intelligent, and witty as we are ugly, stupid, and dull. But what if such a perfect being should one day turn around and decide they will love us back? We can only be somewhat shocked—how can they be as wonderful as we had hoped when they have the bad taste to approve of someone like us? If, in order to love, we just believe that the beloved surpasses us in some way, does not a cruel paradox emerge when they return that love? We are led to ask, “If s/he really is so wonderful, how is it possible that s/he could love someone like me?”
(Alain de Botton: On Love)
Love can do that. It can make you dull those savage aspects of your nature so you become more nakedly ready to accept goodness from your love-partner. It is even more pro-survival, if one accepts the theory that life is a string of boredoms, getting-alongs, sadnesses and just plain nothing-happening times, broken up by gleaming pearls of happiness that get us through the crummy stretches on that string.
Weakness becomes strength.
(Harlan Ellison: introduction to Love Ain’t Nothing But Sex Misspelled)
We fall in love because we long to escape from ourselves with someone as beautiful, intelligent, and witty as we are ugly, stupid, and dull. But what if such a perfect being should one day turn around and decide they will love us back? We can only be somewhat shocked—how can they be as wonderful as we had hoped when they have the bad taste to approve of someone like us? If, in order to love, we just believe that the beloved surpasses us in some way, does not a cruel paradox emerge when they return that love? We are led to ask, “If s/he really is so wonderful, how is it possible that s/he could love someone like me?”
(Alain de Botton: On Love)
// posted by RACH @ 11:13 PM 
