I am the type of person that has doubts about almost everything.
I think doubt is the appropriate word.
Any joy I am given, I watch for consequences and intentions that might be connected.... to the point that I lose confidence in my own experiences.
There are exceptions
...Bigger Love escapes my mental traps. I don't doubt that Joe loves me or that I love him...... but I do see that there can be something terrifying about committed love.....I wouldn't have it any other way, but we are to each other, everything.
Love, it is powerful, it over rides ... logic- morals, me. Its' pull is monstrous.
As a motivator I can't think of anything as effective..................
or, as a sedative.....
Taming beasts or creating them, love is massive.
-------------------
-Before I move on -
I feel the joy of love all the time, I will say that now, so it is clear. What I want to focus on is something else.... I am just setting that up clearly because I don't want a misunderstanding .... Joe is the one thing I am 100% about, I wouldn't want anyone to think anything else .... what I am about to write is not about him.... and for the next segment when I say love it is not romantic love ..... Just to be clear.
---------------------
There was a person I loved unconditionally. I never found the condition at least.
Unconditional love sounds like this wonderful thing, but I have to admit, it scares the hell out of me. It transforms me into a person I don't recognize and can't possibly trust.
He, was in my living room when he told me a story from his past... a horrible story...
As I was petting Boris, he told me about a time when he shot and killed a dog.
The story was pathetic.... a guy he knew, a buddy.... had a dog, and the dog made a mess, got into some flour or something and so the guy no longer wanted the dog. So the person I loved, was paid money... He walked the dog out into the woods, and shot him in the head. The person I loved went on to talk about how nobel the dog was looking up at him with trust as the rifle's barrel rested on his head.....
disgusting.... it appalls me.....
But the part I want to highlight now is- the story, as sad and disturbing as it was... did not affect my love for the person telling it.
I didn't like the feeling of discovering what unconditional meant. I felt like every moral I ever thought I had was a joke. I don't have unconditional morality.... I have unstoppable emotion.
It feels terrible.
Who am I if I don't hate a man who shoots a fucking dog... but I don't.... and frankly I am beyond rationalizing and throwing layers of subterfuge on the event. I Believe that the person I love did something terrible, and I love them just as much as I did before the story.
What the hell does that make me.... that level of acceptance?
Terrifying.
---------------------
I joke about this, but Joe could murder a school bus full of children .... and I would bitch at him sure....but I would help him burry the bodies ......
I guess I feel lucky that he wouldn't .... I sure as hell have no control here.... I feel a bit prideful about being dedicated ... but I also feel like love should be equated with a zombie bite or an infection because it transforms you into .... wait ...... no ..... maybe it isn't transformation.... maybe it just exposes me for what I am.... a huge liar. Every decision I make... every thought I have, every cause I support has an override switch..... and the emotion that controls it is not subject to conscious thought.
Do people have control over love?
Was there a point of no return when I met Joe ... a point when I jumped off a cliff and couldn't go back to the person I was before?
With Joe I am just fine with going down together..... This sounds terribly self absorbed (I have a blog so of course I am self absorbed) but one of the things I liked most about Joe, even early in our friendship... is I really like myself when I am with him. ....but what if I didn't....
There is a saying I am going to steal from all the manga I read ... (I am also going to get it wrong because I don't quite know how to look it up) I will happily follow you to hell, because that is where YOU are going.
I do like that level of dedication, I won't lie... I want to lose myself in love, to Joe....but there is this little quivering voice somewhere in my head that says" Whew.... you lucked out.... this turned out great, but don't pretend it was more than luck.... you and I both know you gave up the reins a while ago. This wasn't about you deciding,deserving or planning anything. "
------------
Since the first half of this was a huge bummer to read and write here are a couple of related stories that while similar are less grimy ..... less disturbing, hopefully...
--------
Stupid Dedication
I was making food for Joe one day. We had a package of meat in the fridge....... by date and smell it was fine but it looked kinda grey green to me.
I decided to pass on it and eat something else, but, Joe said it was fine, and he would eat it.
So, as I was frying it ..... and it still turned my stomach...... I started thinking...... what if this makes him sick that would be terrible.
I started feeling guilty about avoiding sickness by using good sense and not eating green meat. The guilt got bigger ...............so.....
I ate a couple of forks full, because I didn't want him to suffer alone, I guess..... My actions were dedicated?.... but they were also weird and ridiculous..... Why was it better in my head for both of us to get sick..... what sense was I making..... I even had rational thoughts like that in my head at the time but found myself eating the fucking meat anyway....
I feel proud and disdainful of myself at the same time.
------------
Morality .... out the window
I had a weird thing ...
a code maybe ..... I didn't want to kill anything if I didn't have to. I eat meat and walk on the grass so there was a level of hypocrisy to my commitment, but for years I would not kill bugs. If there was a spider in the house I took it outside, if a mosquito bit me I let it finish....
Then I got a dog..... and he stared chomping at the air whenever bees flew around his head. ( he eats ants too... we started calling him Renfeild. He often greets us all drooley and happy with a dead ant stuck to his tongue )
When Boris started biting bees I started killing them. Without hesitation .... any guilt I felt was in retrospect.
I wrote about this before and although I do it all the time.... I don't like to repeat myself so for reference here is the link.
http://chobeksbox.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-i-was-young-i-would-spend-hours.html
I think doubt is the appropriate word.
Any joy I am given, I watch for consequences and intentions that might be connected.... to the point that I lose confidence in my own experiences.
There are exceptions
...Bigger Love escapes my mental traps. I don't doubt that Joe loves me or that I love him...... but I do see that there can be something terrifying about committed love.....I wouldn't have it any other way, but we are to each other, everything.
Love, it is powerful, it over rides ... logic- morals, me. Its' pull is monstrous.
As a motivator I can't think of anything as effective..................
or, as a sedative.....
Taming beasts or creating them, love is massive.
-------------------
-Before I move on -
I feel the joy of love all the time, I will say that now, so it is clear. What I want to focus on is something else.... I am just setting that up clearly because I don't want a misunderstanding .... Joe is the one thing I am 100% about, I wouldn't want anyone to think anything else .... what I am about to write is not about him.... and for the next segment when I say love it is not romantic love ..... Just to be clear.
---------------------
There was a person I loved unconditionally. I never found the condition at least.
Unconditional love sounds like this wonderful thing, but I have to admit, it scares the hell out of me. It transforms me into a person I don't recognize and can't possibly trust.
He, was in my living room when he told me a story from his past... a horrible story...
As I was petting Boris, he told me about a time when he shot and killed a dog.
The story was pathetic.... a guy he knew, a buddy.... had a dog, and the dog made a mess, got into some flour or something and so the guy no longer wanted the dog. So the person I loved, was paid money... He walked the dog out into the woods, and shot him in the head. The person I loved went on to talk about how nobel the dog was looking up at him with trust as the rifle's barrel rested on his head.....
disgusting.... it appalls me.....
But the part I want to highlight now is- the story, as sad and disturbing as it was... did not affect my love for the person telling it.
I didn't like the feeling of discovering what unconditional meant. I felt like every moral I ever thought I had was a joke. I don't have unconditional morality.... I have unstoppable emotion.
It feels terrible.
Who am I if I don't hate a man who shoots a fucking dog... but I don't.... and frankly I am beyond rationalizing and throwing layers of subterfuge on the event. I Believe that the person I love did something terrible, and I love them just as much as I did before the story.
What the hell does that make me.... that level of acceptance?
Terrifying.
---------------------
I joke about this, but Joe could murder a school bus full of children .... and I would bitch at him sure....but I would help him burry the bodies ......
I guess I feel lucky that he wouldn't .... I sure as hell have no control here.... I feel a bit prideful about being dedicated ... but I also feel like love should be equated with a zombie bite or an infection because it transforms you into .... wait ...... no ..... maybe it isn't transformation.... maybe it just exposes me for what I am.... a huge liar. Every decision I make... every thought I have, every cause I support has an override switch..... and the emotion that controls it is not subject to conscious thought.
Do people have control over love?
Was there a point of no return when I met Joe ... a point when I jumped off a cliff and couldn't go back to the person I was before?
With Joe I am just fine with going down together..... This sounds terribly self absorbed (I have a blog so of course I am self absorbed) but one of the things I liked most about Joe, even early in our friendship... is I really like myself when I am with him. ....but what if I didn't....
There is a saying I am going to steal from all the manga I read ... (I am also going to get it wrong because I don't quite know how to look it up) I will happily follow you to hell, because that is where YOU are going.
I do like that level of dedication, I won't lie... I want to lose myself in love, to Joe....but there is this little quivering voice somewhere in my head that says" Whew.... you lucked out.... this turned out great, but don't pretend it was more than luck.... you and I both know you gave up the reins a while ago. This wasn't about you deciding,deserving or planning anything. "
------------
Since the first half of this was a huge bummer to read and write here are a couple of related stories that while similar are less grimy ..... less disturbing, hopefully...
--------
Stupid Dedication
I was making food for Joe one day. We had a package of meat in the fridge....... by date and smell it was fine but it looked kinda grey green to me.
I decided to pass on it and eat something else, but, Joe said it was fine, and he would eat it.
So, as I was frying it ..... and it still turned my stomach...... I started thinking...... what if this makes him sick that would be terrible.
I started feeling guilty about avoiding sickness by using good sense and not eating green meat. The guilt got bigger ...............so.....
I ate a couple of forks full, because I didn't want him to suffer alone, I guess..... My actions were dedicated?.... but they were also weird and ridiculous..... Why was it better in my head for both of us to get sick..... what sense was I making..... I even had rational thoughts like that in my head at the time but found myself eating the fucking meat anyway....
I feel proud and disdainful of myself at the same time.
------------
Morality .... out the window
I had a weird thing ...
a code maybe ..... I didn't want to kill anything if I didn't have to. I eat meat and walk on the grass so there was a level of hypocrisy to my commitment, but for years I would not kill bugs. If there was a spider in the house I took it outside, if a mosquito bit me I let it finish....
Then I got a dog..... and he stared chomping at the air whenever bees flew around his head. ( he eats ants too... we started calling him Renfeild. He often greets us all drooley and happy with a dead ant stuck to his tongue )
When Boris started biting bees I started killing them. Without hesitation .... any guilt I felt was in retrospect.
I wrote about this before and although I do it all the time.... I don't like to repeat myself so for reference here is the link.
http://chobeksbox.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-i-was-young-i-would-spend-hours.html
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