Circumstance has had me cornered.
I don't know exactly why, but after spending days and months in the trash can of shallow life, i have climbed out, only to face the world with much more cynicism than ever.
Especially this thing they call love. No not romantic love, but love in general.
It has been said: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
It has become apparent, of late, that I am unable to give nor receive love in any capacity.
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.
- 1 Corinthians 13:1-3
what shall be my next course of action, mud-hued bovine?
Ordnance expended by Fish at 21:33hrs
1 Comments:
love isn't the sort of thing people think it is anyway; it will sneak up on you when you least expect it, and there's no accounting for tastes; one key, as the brown cow might have said, is mood.
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