The innocence of pure love

. . . . . . . The scent of romance is like incense in that it fills the rooms and yet it is subtle as the hint from a dandelion waving in summer. There is nothing blunt about it, as corner to corner becomes suffused with the sweet aroma of chance, time, and encounter’s methodologies. We come to union as one. {cont.}

. . . . . . . The love train for some is more like a train to hell. Vampires crawling over the box cars, the train chugging along, the gates of hell swinging wide open issuing clouds of sulfur and brimstone. It’s times like this that you hope for a derailment.

. . . . . . . Emotions are the heartblood of life. I find myself seeking to enter situations where there’s a guarantee of an emotional payoff, good or bad. Emotions are a drug. They’re the face we draw on the brick wall of our lives, humanizing it. The feeling we get from a new scene can affect the whole rest of our day, one way or the other. Be delicate with your heart, for it may break.

. . . . . . . Innocence cannot be traded away; it can only be lost through the passage of time. It is in the moment of loss that we come to realize what has been lost: that is the meaning of maturity.

. . . . . . . For innocence to last, it must be protected and nurtured, like a quiet pond in a cool underground cavern. Delicate life-forms exist there, living from day to day.

. . . . . . . The sum total of our innocent actions is our claim to love. When we look into the Other’s eyes, we are expressing hopeful Innocence, an Innocence that will not change or wither with the coming of winter. The seasons pass as innocence gets chipped away, but in the duration that lasted, it was and will be remembered.

. . . . . . . It’s like Casablanca or Gone With The Wind. Those oldtime movies really knew their relationships. The man was in the saddle, and the woman was his horse. The two of them went galloping around until they could find a log cabin to raise a brood in. The resulting centaurs were cute as a button, no doubt.

. . . . . . . Women need to change in order to find love. The baby momma seems to think she can get everything, just by being bitchy. She needs to quiet down and cultivate her feminine sweet side. A good attitude gets you everywhere in life if you’re female; if you’re male, being an asshole will accomplish the same thing.

. . . . . . . The asshole is the rock ‘n roll common pigeon of the city. Rock ‘n roll pigeon eats the other birds alive, the way Ozzy Osbourne ate his flying bat. Rock ‘n roll pigeon struts birdlike over the stage for the handout scattered pieces of bread. Rock ‘n roll pigeon is alive with the music of the night which caresses his feathers and his beak lovingly so.

. . . . . . . So we have assholes, innocence, feelings + emotions, vampire love trains and partial aromas. What do they add up to? A long-lasting relationship of value both to the man and the woman. Something rewarding. My longest relationship was 3 years, and it was almost all “UP”s. It was the kind of experience that I’ll never forget. A good experience with love prepps you for future encounters with the opposite gender, whereas getting burned by love makes you twice gunshy only. I was prepped for good news and good times.

. . . . . . . Finally, love cannot be contained like a stress ball squeezed in the fist. It aspires to be released, to explode across space like a roomful of rainbow.

. . . . . . . It is the meaning to our lives. It is life itself. And in the retelling, we find that we have done a Good Thing.

6 thoughts on “The innocence of pure love

  1. I’m basically terrified of people – so falling in love has always ended up a botched experience. In fact, sometimes I think I’m not capable of love – just a slime ball full of infatuation, passion, and lust. An asshole I guess…

    1. Women need a master. If you can overmaster them, they’ll swoon for you. If you can’t, they’ll eat you alive — or at least nag you to death, and attempt to control you. True love is only possible in a male dominant – female submissive structure. The good news is that even seemingly dominant women long to fall to their knees to the right man. I know all this from personal experience so trust me on this.

        1. I can barely remember the first time I had sex, but I remember the love affair of later times quite well. Men are supposed to be pigs, but we have strong memories that resonate of when She came in our lives and was there for us, with us, by us. It is inevitable that love would win out over sex. This is why serial love is best — if you can win over girls at random, in large quantities, you can experience the thrill of newfound love over and over again, without the desiccation and dryness of old-age love.

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