What would Meatloaf do for love?
(Anything, but not that.)
I thought about it for a while one night. Laying there, staring at the ceiling, with a fever and a raw throat. (Love, I mean- not Meatloaf.) I wondered why every time we begin to fall in love, it feels new. "Never felt this way about anyone before." "This is different." And what eventually happens? Heartbreak. Revenge. Recovery. Rinse. Repeat.
I had a revelation, so I wrote it all down (in complete darkness) in the notebook by my bed. Here it is in it's unpolished entirety, translated from illegible chicken-scratch.
I'm beginning to realize a few fundamental truths about love. It's not a catch all. Everyone has a their own definition for every different type of love. It's endless and eternal in it's variations. Sometimes people get hurt because the one they love CAN'T, I mean, literally CANNOT love them back in the same way. Because it's not in their nature, it's not how they perceive it. Love is a snowflake, it's beautiful and no two are the same and it's rare to stay the same forever. It always changes; it melts, it freezes, it steams, it rains, and pours. Makes a lot more sense to me now that the suit of cups in the tarot symbolizes emotions/wishes/dreams. What was I saying?
The awesome thing about BPD is that you get to experience fucked up mood swings that piss off and alienate your partner! I'll save that type of blog entry for livejournal.
How is this relevant to music and art? Obviously, love is the number one subject ever sung about. And I believe that love is the secret to art. Some call it passion. That's what separates the real from the fake. And also, I'm watching Meatloaf videos this week.