It's done, thank the gods. No more working until Sunday at the soonest.
I'm too tired for deep thoughts now. And earlier, when I wasn't tired, I didn't have any. This is, I suppose, a pretty good metaphor for my day.
I continue, for reasons that I can only ascribe to the universe having a hell of a sense of humor, to be a fount of some varieties of romantic advice. This, written by Neil Gaiman for the character of Rose Walker in Sandman #64 (tm and © the owners) went out to someone dealing with a breakup. I wasn't entirely sure what I set out to accomplish, but I thought the words deserved hearing, and, apparently, they made the recipient feel (at least a little) better.
"Love...Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up all this armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own any more. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter, working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just the in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love.
I hate love."
Something to consider, at least.
Today's Link Of The Day is Far More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About The Bush Family. http://prorev.com/bush.htm
9/21/2001 4:40 AM