Monday, July 17, 2006

Love My Way

This morning I was handed the most difficult writing assignment of my non-existent writing career. And I was afraid that I would not be able to do it justice. That I could not find the words, the feeling to repay the honour that was afforded me.

I began to write, and as I did, I began to cry, and cry, and cry.

I will not tell you what is was or who it was for.

Afterwards, half an hour ago, I walked into the sun and literally shaking, headed for the beer that would calm my nerves and slow my heart and let me breath. And as I sat there, afternoon amber sun drenched, I realised I needed to come back here, and I needed to say what I had said in that piece, and I needed to say it here.

And it's about Love. In its purest form. Just the feeling, not the emotion. Just the ideal.

I will not reprint what I wrote, for it was a gift for one person. But I will try and open the gates again and let it flow.

********

What point of living, if not for love?
What do you think you are living for, if not for love?
When it all ends, will you think, I was free, I was rich, I was creative, I was famous?
What of that feeling, love, that you dream of, that you hold dear, that you hope for and pray for and that you cherish and feed and grow with and are constantly surprised by?

The meaning of life is love. The end. The whole point of our fucking existence is to transcend the menial details that constantly bombard us, that distract us and send us plummeting downward, that turn us sour and hating, that create war and politics and animosity. The point is to move one step beyond that, and love the fuck out of all around you.

Call your friends, your family, your lovers. Tell them you love them. Hold their hand, smile at them when events transpire against you, let go of the bullshit, travel into the centre of your fucking being and strip it all away until you are able to love. Yes! There are so many facets to our lives, exploration, explanation, examination and excitement. But does it all not dull in your eyes in comparison to love?

The very thought of love makes us smile. The very hope that it exists is enough to give us the strength to carry on, day to day. Would I wake up in the morning if I thought love did not exist? If I was living for the pay off, the magazine cover, the merchandise? Doesn't love get you out of bed? Isn't there hope for a fucking future as long as there is love? Am I being incredibly fucking cheesy? YES. But it is SO FUCKING IMPORTANT DON'T YOU SEE? Don't you feel me crying as I write this for if you do not understand what I feel, how can you live? I mean LIVE.

Fuck.

This is my God, this notion of love. This dream. This Earth. This is my religion, this is my aim.

More often than not, I find myself on a rollercoaster of expectation. Trying to fulfill a potential I believe exists within me, trying to live a dream within a dream and make something out of the circumstances that make up my life. Sometimes, I give up, judged a failure by the jury of myself, and sit at the end of the bar. Henry Chinaski, Archibald Rum, no love, no philosophy, just numb me, numb me, NUMB ME NOW. But if I don't get this out right now, this moment will be lost. And this lesson is far too important, TO ME, to forget.

I'll be embarrassed by this, I know myself. I'll be angry and sore and hurting and I won't understand the meaning of what I write, and I'll read it back and think...you idiot.

But I'll be wrong, and I'll know it.

What fucking purpose to life, if not love.

********

I'm glad reading this back, that it does not have the power of the writing I did this morning.

I'm glad I was able to distill more succintly, the feeling, in the gift for my friend.

I hope I was able to convey to my friend, what I know they already understand.

And I hope it sticks, because, once pain has left us, it's so fucking easy to forget this. To carry on and forget the lesson. But the lesson is unrequited fucking love, and until we all learn that, we're fucking doomed.

Peace, beer and damn good sushi.

mattyb.

7 comments:

  1. Hey Sherriff-
    Been gone a while, as were you apparently.
    so goddamn glad to see you back, and just as sharp as ever.
    Missed you, stranger.
    And once again, I have that feeling - a streak of recognition.

    Love.

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  2. judged by the jury of myself.

    that is me too.

    love is either really really easy and you couldn't stop it coming, gushing, even if you wanted to. or it's really really hard, and you can't force it out, can't fake it. you are constipated.

    i don't know what i think about love now. i have it, it's in my life most abundantly. but not necessarily with my partner. does that matter? do you think there are different types of love? are they equally valid?

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  3. ahhh, the frustrating invalidation of unrequited love ...

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  4. Oh no, unrequited love in more the buddhist sense is not frustrating at all, it is mind expanding.

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  5. Just like to say that what you wrote for our friend was amazing and touching and fitted the mood perfectly. She managed to get through it and delivered your words with great dignity. Kudos sir. Please explain text message you sent last night, Understood it but thought it was a bit obtuse. Also did the cunts at the spot keep you awake with the doof doof, or am i just getting old?

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