Big Update - Part Two: Romance, Sex, and Life
So, we revealed that I have been and still am, on occasion, a lying asshole. And I revealed my dirty little sordid past to be true, just more abbreviated, generally speaking. So, let's get down to the nitty gritty for this part.
Romance
I've spent a great deal of time thinking about romance lately. Of course, watching Kevin Smith movies repeatedly recently never helps to keep your mind on other matters. Neither does reading Puzo. (Though I've said it before, and I'll say it again, the world would be a much better place if we all followed Puzo's philosophy on love expressed so well in Fools Die.)
So, let's get the truth on the line first. I've realistically only had one serious romantic relationship. For those keeping score, that would be my relationship with Liniah. I can't say that it was always the best relationship, but for a first love, as it were, it was a great one. Well, I can only honestly speak for myself. So, let's keep that in mind for future reference BroJ. There we go. All straight now? Good. Now let's see if I can find a point to this mess. Probably not.
I'm a Dreamer and a Warrior. (Self-made terms that are clearly defined in my head as a part of my own personal philosophy. Some day I will do those posts as well. You haven't seen long until you see those fuckers.) That means that I believe in True Love, and that it is worth fighting, dying, killing, and/or cursing yourself to eternal damnation for it. Here's the funny part. I also tend to treat True Love as bullshit, and generally a horrible thing. Lovely contradiction, isn't it? Let's let Puzo explain.
I want to tell you a story, I have no other vanity. I don't desire success or fame or money. But that's easy, most men, most women don't, not really. Even better, I don't want love. When I was young, some women told me they loved me for my long eyelashes. I accepted. Later it was for my wit. Then for my power and money. Then for my talent. Then for my mind--deep. OK, I can handle all of it. The only woman who scares me is the one who loves me for myself alone. I have plans for her. I have poisons and daggers and dark graves in caves to hide her head. She can't be allowed to live. Especially if she is sexually faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone. (Page 5, 2nd full paragraph, Fools Die, Book One
So, the most important aspect of that is really the last five sentences. See, True Love, the storybook romances...that's all understandable and I track it, I comprehend it. Here's where it gets terrifying. You meet someone, it gets all serious, and they pop that word. Sure it's great, but then you start talking about it...or looking at wedding vows, or what-have-you. Whatever the particular situation is, there's always a moment. It's that moment where you realize that this person is literally talking about irrevocably changing both of your lives by intertwining them. They are asking for both of you to give up a part of your identity, your own essence, to create a duality. "To have and to hold, until death do you part..." Who the fuck thought that line up? That's fucking sick in the head! In the Dark Ages, sure I guess it made sense. Today? Christ, I can't figure out if I want to wear sneakers or loafers to work tomorrow. Now I have to figure out if I want to spend the rest of my life with you, *and* give you a part of myself? Not a fucking chance.
But...wait. There's something vaguely comforting about it, isn't there? I guess...I'm really not sure anymore. You have those rainy weekend mornings where you both wake up in a bed far too small for two, leisurely moving about. You both toss on some kind of cozy clothes, and spend the day inside, snuggled up close. You read, you talk, you watch movies. But then again, you have those knock-down, drag-out verbal brawls that rival the storms that shook the sky during Lucifer's Rebellion. So, how to you find some kind of middle ground between the two? How do you realistically tell yourself in this modern world that you can legitimately commit to one person, and one person wholly and completely?
I don't believe you can, unless you have some sort of co-dependency or obsession issues. I don't intend to knock on any seriously committed folks out there, or any married folks. I salute you all heartily. I guess it comes down to a personal distinction. There is only one person I could commit myself to. In some ways, I have already sworn myself to that person. The problem, you ask? That person does not exist. What I want, the person I look for, it is fiction. It is the amalgation of hundreds of movies, small quotes from literature, remembered dreams, and self-believed lies. (For those that remember the Jules story, you've had a taste.) So what do you call yourself when you are a Romantic Dreamer, but you find yourself believing the Dream will only ever be a Dream, and not Reality? Anybody? I don't have a fucking clue on this one.
Romance
I've spent a great deal of time thinking about romance lately. Of course, watching Kevin Smith movies repeatedly recently never helps to keep your mind on other matters. Neither does reading Puzo. (Though I've said it before, and I'll say it again, the world would be a much better place if we all followed Puzo's philosophy on love expressed so well in Fools Die.)
So, let's get the truth on the line first. I've realistically only had one serious romantic relationship. For those keeping score, that would be my relationship with Liniah. I can't say that it was always the best relationship, but for a first love, as it were, it was a great one. Well, I can only honestly speak for myself. So, let's keep that in mind for future reference BroJ. There we go. All straight now? Good. Now let's see if I can find a point to this mess. Probably not.
I'm a Dreamer and a Warrior. (Self-made terms that are clearly defined in my head as a part of my own personal philosophy. Some day I will do those posts as well. You haven't seen long until you see those fuckers.) That means that I believe in True Love, and that it is worth fighting, dying, killing, and/or cursing yourself to eternal damnation for it. Here's the funny part. I also tend to treat True Love as bullshit, and generally a horrible thing. Lovely contradiction, isn't it? Let's let Puzo explain.
I want to tell you a story, I have no other vanity. I don't desire success or fame or money. But that's easy, most men, most women don't, not really. Even better, I don't want love. When I was young, some women told me they loved me for my long eyelashes. I accepted. Later it was for my wit. Then for my power and money. Then for my talent. Then for my mind--deep. OK, I can handle all of it. The only woman who scares me is the one who loves me for myself alone. I have plans for her. I have poisons and daggers and dark graves in caves to hide her head. She can't be allowed to live. Especially if she is sexually faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone. (Page 5, 2nd full paragraph, Fools Die, Book One
So, the most important aspect of that is really the last five sentences. See, True Love, the storybook romances...that's all understandable and I track it, I comprehend it. Here's where it gets terrifying. You meet someone, it gets all serious, and they pop that word. Sure it's great, but then you start talking about it...or looking at wedding vows, or what-have-you. Whatever the particular situation is, there's always a moment. It's that moment where you realize that this person is literally talking about irrevocably changing both of your lives by intertwining them. They are asking for both of you to give up a part of your identity, your own essence, to create a duality. "To have and to hold, until death do you part..." Who the fuck thought that line up? That's fucking sick in the head! In the Dark Ages, sure I guess it made sense. Today? Christ, I can't figure out if I want to wear sneakers or loafers to work tomorrow. Now I have to figure out if I want to spend the rest of my life with you, *and* give you a part of myself? Not a fucking chance.
But...wait. There's something vaguely comforting about it, isn't there? I guess...I'm really not sure anymore. You have those rainy weekend mornings where you both wake up in a bed far too small for two, leisurely moving about. You both toss on some kind of cozy clothes, and spend the day inside, snuggled up close. You read, you talk, you watch movies. But then again, you have those knock-down, drag-out verbal brawls that rival the storms that shook the sky during Lucifer's Rebellion. So, how to you find some kind of middle ground between the two? How do you realistically tell yourself in this modern world that you can legitimately commit to one person, and one person wholly and completely?
I don't believe you can, unless you have some sort of co-dependency or obsession issues. I don't intend to knock on any seriously committed folks out there, or any married folks. I salute you all heartily. I guess it comes down to a personal distinction. There is only one person I could commit myself to. In some ways, I have already sworn myself to that person. The problem, you ask? That person does not exist. What I want, the person I look for, it is fiction. It is the amalgation of hundreds of movies, small quotes from literature, remembered dreams, and self-believed lies. (For those that remember the Jules story, you've had a taste.) So what do you call yourself when you are a Romantic Dreamer, but you find yourself believing the Dream will only ever be a Dream, and not Reality? Anybody? I don't have a fucking clue on this one.