Somebody asked me for love-advice. Why a few people think I have 2-cents in my pocket bewilders.
The specific question: How does one hold on to his/her Significant Other?
My non-specific answer: Go back to Aesop’s Fables.
In Aesop’s Fables, the Wind and the Sun made a wager as to who between them can force a man to take off his coat. The Wind blew hard and the man clung to his coat. The Sun shone and the man took off his coat to enjoy the freedom of the elements.
I think the person who asked for my advice expected a 5-step strategy or a 10-guideline sort of thing. And all I could come up with was an old college lesson.
So I tried to elaborate – it is our prerogative to behave like the Wind or the Sun, whatever floats our boat. And all I got was seconds of dead air.
Now you know I am the last person one should ask for love-advice.
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Writing about nothing in particular while the world is in turmoil.
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I write differently from the way I speak. I speak differently from the way I think. I think differently from the way I should think and so it goes on into the darkest depths of infinity. (Kafka, Letter to Ottla, 10 July 1914)
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2 comments:
But sincerely Dyn, when I am in my neurotic phases , you are one of the very few people I always want to talk to.
For me, your thoughts make sense, in a dysfunctional way, and such I cant explain why they make sense but they do. Even if I have to battle anxiety attack to get to where you are, I will and have done.
Firie, I am doing textual analysis.
"When I am in my neurotic phases, you are one of the very few people I always want to talk to" - is it because you find me neurotic? hehe.
To be told that I make sense in a dysfunctional way is as the Blacks say a "motherfucker," meaning, it's a compliment in the highest order.
Coming from you, I can't take it any other way.
Be safe.
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