Well. It is another day. It's beautiful outside, it makes my heart ache.
I subscribe to the belief that humans are not physiologically capable of taking in as much beauty and love as is given us. It seems to me less likely to die of pain than to die of love. We don't know how to direct that yearning in our gaping hearts. We will make a shamble of our lives with that very gift that will kill us eventually. I know I have.
I've been working on a story about that, humans feeling so much that we die.
Two of my classes this term are about drugs and alcohol, the prevention of and the problems of. It strikes me that love is alot like a drug. It changes our every perspective, the way we see everything.
It would be interesting to try and write a parable about love as a physical matter, that we could imbibe upon wish.
