Falling in love clearly is one of the things that I hate the most and that I love the most.
Suddenly a song is not just a song anymore, it’s a soundtrack for your memories and expectations, and it’s really not a problem for 3 reasons:
- Love’s blind in terms of reality, at last in the beginnig;
- Still in the beginning, everything is a possibility;
- Hope’s there.
The sun looks brighter. The food tastes better. You feel more confident. You walk in a different way. You smile to strangers and more: smile in a different way, and somehow you feel like the world is smiling back to you, because when sticks and bones are thrown at you it doesn’t hurts anymore. So if you’re reading this you’re probably wondering why I hate falling in love. No, it’s not because I’m scared of not being loved back. It’s not because of the risks. It’s not because I know it will not be a teenage dream like in my expectations. I hate it because I loose my balance. Like, totally. Like, free faling.
I think of the person I love all the time, although I don’t choose it. I can’t control my thoughts when there’s love involved. For me, love is rebellion. Like Jean Luc Godard movies:
— “Are you thinking of me?”
[Looks down and smile]
He could ask me while I do my breakfast and the answer would be the same. He could ask me while I go to the supermarket and the answer would be the same. He could ask me while I’m watching my nouvelle vague movies and the answer would be the same. He could ask me while I clean my vinyls and the answer would be the same. He could ask me while I take care of my cactus and the answer would be the same. He could ask me while I wash the dishes and the answer would be the same. He could ask me while I smoke my cigarettes in any single part of my day and the answer will
The person who’s asking can change. The answer, no.
And it annoys me. It saddens me. It makes me feel a fool out of control.
My point of view of every little thing in this world is unique. I could be thinking in so many things that would change me somehow, that would wake up new feelings inside me. The human race is divine, it really is. The way that we behave is so complex: what we think, what we feel, it really fascinates me. But that’s not the point. I want to think about different things, contemplate them and synthesize what my eyes capture with my whole unique point of view. I don’t want to think always about a person in the same passionate way. I feel like I’m wasting my thoughts and my mental capacity. Your life and every single thing on it happens only once. Nothing happens exactly the same never ever. In every second of the existence of this world the sky looks different. The stars shine different in every single night. Different people pass me by all the time in different places and I feel that I’m loosing a lot while this person doesn’t even know that his second house (or even first) is my thoughts. While I don’t win nothing. While he doesn’t win nothing.
It’s a loosing game. At last for who plays it.