We desire to understand the beautifully curious. According to my Philosophy professor, plutonic love is a thirst for knowledge. A knowledge of the self. A knowledge of the other. How lucky we are to acquire both, and yet refuse to seek optimism when our hair was barely touching the brim of our shoulders, and we’re still thinking about the good fight. *Tightens ponytail*
How did we get here, who decided this exhausting fate? Now please, do not take that as an insulting comment, It’s a foreign routine, almost like following someone else’s feet whilst salsa dancing in a dingy bar.
You watch them grow, you were 18 years old on a January evening…writing a post about the year of man/year of you. You have that piece above your desk, and there’s an article beside it, not yours. Reminding you of growth. Genuinely wondering if you left that person better than you found them, something Pausnias would agree with. That person being yourself too by the way.
It’s all coming up roses, you say. It’s Winter, they respond. So we shake hands with the art of timing, and before we know it, Oh God, this is going to be troublesome okay. Here we go.
I think… Eventually, I think it’ll be remembered definitely. — Alex Turner talking about the album ‘Whatever People Say I am…’ in January of 2006
“You’re too good.” I thought to myself in this Philosophy class, taking notes as my Professor had me captivated. You never thought you’d pick up on this in a classroom, how initially individuals walk into your life as this wondrous being, but you ignore the beams of light radiating off their skin because you’ve always been so curious to discover the complexity within a mind busier than downtown intersections at 4:00pm.
And a year ago, we’re thinking to ourselves as we write over and over again how good we are for them, but what’s good for you? I’m not asking about the time. (But same place, same time?) That’s all I’m asking. Aren’t we better, once we’re better taken care of? Or is it just ironically frightening to leave yourself in better hands?
Then she spoke of Gods, but not the one I speak to regularly. Dionysus – a Rock God. Search him up if you’re still here. Aristophanes reminds us, especially when we’re quite vulnerable of course that there’s this being bumping around out there, into walls and other individuals. What may look insane and unfathomable to others, is electric to one. Really trying to give you something to believe in, for those who gave up on religion when they weren’t getting answers. This is when Another Love by Tom Odell starts playing, and I realize that this wasn’t something to be solved, more like the internal monologue that kept getting interrupted throughout my week.
“We’re not going through this again”
“But did you feel that magic, what a ride.”