May 99 never come again

I shouldn’t really be posting at the moment, as I know this will just come out negative, and that I will regret making this my 100th post as it will not be much of an example of the rest of my posts… but fuck it here goes.

It never rains, but it pours. I believe that is the saying people use to describe bad things when they all seem to happen at once. This is not the case here, i am just using it as the subject of love seemed to arise at the same time as my 100th post.

(I should take a moment to draw your attention to the fact that I said “I believe” for something that I am absolutely sure about.)

Carrying on…

Love… lose me, put me somewhere where I cannot be found,

Love, forget me, throw me away, ignore me, pass over me, pretend I was not here.

Love, leave me alone, you have done enough, now go.

Why do we do these things to ourselves? open ourselves up to get hurt… because that’s what will happen, in the end. “Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all”… bullshit. “Tis better to be loved”… possibly.

Is love anything to do with this destiny we talk of so much? Is love part of the greater plan, did god create love? or was it some side effect to being human? is love our obstacle in life… the thing we must overcome to reach our destiny?

We love, we lose, and the wheels of the bus go round and round.

Why play a game you’re destined to lose, Georg would say that if you truly believe you can win then you will, Hans would tell me to change the rules. but I say, Why play?

My heart may be more beautiful with all the scars, and I suppose this makes you bigger men than I. But I’m tired, and I’m sad, and I’m alone, and I just can’t find reason to love anymore. I will never be complete.

As I have said before, I think of every sign of affection on the part of a woman as a preamble to an act of love, so love forget me, for just one moment, let me breathe for just a second. leave me alone and crush someone else because I just can’t take it anymore.

Bring on post 101, may 99 never come again.

Love, Life, Lies EverlastIng

One hundred…

I was thinking a lot about what to write for this special post. 100 posts means something I guess and I am sure we will all see post 200 at some point. While we are waiting to reach this I am sure we will continue to discuss things that move us and that shape our life. We will see happiness and sorrow, we will find hope and sometimes we will fight hopelessness. But one thing is for sure, we won’t escape this rollercoaster which is our life. So yesterday someone sent me a really good story and I thought I post this here as my 100th post on the BLS blog… Here it goes:

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley.

A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.” The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.

The people stared ­ “How can he say his heart is more beautiful?” they thought.

The young man looked at the old man’s heart and saw its state and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”

“Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love – I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared.”

“Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges – giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks.

He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his.

They embraced and walked away side by side.

… having said enough…