What Is Love?

I can't help but thinking of A Night At The Roxbury after typing that title. So that means my head is going to be permanently bopping throughout this post. Ace.

Right, after my few days of to-ing and fro-ing (sp?) over where the hell I'm supposed to be right now...I've come to the right conclusion.

I'm staying put. Without anymore question.

I worked all day today and (dare I say it?), I was thrilled to be interacting with people again. Three days off of work and it was like I was back to Day One of bartending, filled with enthusiasm and wit.

Then, after 12-hours on my feet, I decided to go to a quiet (different) bar, by myself, and read some poetry while drinking a glass of wine. Ah, how scholarly!

But seriously, it was like Rabindranath Tagore was just the tonic I needed tonight. He's so amazing. His poetry is like liquid acid. He was such a romantic, it kills me.

Like this passage from his poem Unyielding:

Who can understand another!
Heart cannot restrain it's passion.
I had hoped that some remaining
Tear-soaked memories would sway you,
Stir your feet to lightsomeness.

Moon fell at the feet of morning,
Loosened from night's fading necklace.
While you slept, O did my vina
Lull you with it's heartache? Did you
Dream at least of happiness?

Ah, it GOT me. I love it.

And then I read, my favourite poem by him, Unyielding Love, which I won't post (because I'm unclear of the whole copyright boundaries on this) but the last verse is:

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you,
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life,
The memories of all loves merging with this love of ours -
And the songs of every poet past and forever.


After reading this, I went outside to smoke a cigarette and listen to all the messages on my phone that I hadn't checked for the past few days. A few were from my mother, one was from Char, and the other three - from Alle, Brooke and Tara - were all of them calling "checking up on me" to see how I was feeling.

It's funny how sometimes when you think you're totally alone, you're actually not. And the times you are, you don't even realise it until the moment is gone.

Then I went inside and started thinking about love, (which I haven't thought about a lot recently), in general, and what it means.

Romantically, unendingly, familial or friendly: I used to think "love" would be hot and scalding, like boiling water.

But perhaps it's more like tepid caramel?

I don't know. Just saying. I ramble.