I’m a simple man.
I like hugs.
Hugs are simple.
I like comfort.
We all do. It’s a fact of life, that’s really all we want: simplicity and comfort. Sometimes life isn’t simple, or comforting, but sometimes someone comes along and makes your inner turmoil melt away. Sometimes it’s like you’re right next to each other, even if you’re millions of miles away from each other. That, my friends, is magic.
I’ve talked before about soul mates and kindred spirits, I’m sure. But can I ask you: Have you ever met someone and just felt some sort of warmth from them? No matter where you are, you just feel it, even if you’re just thinking about them. That is also magic. There’s no other way to explain it.
I’m quite peculiar. I say that I don’t like people (no offense intended, but sometimes people are exactly what Slipknot said they equal) but secretly, I’m fascinated by them. Maybe it’s because I’m not of the norm.
I mean, I write and I fall in love with people that I’ve never met ‘in real life’. May I just digress a wee bit? See, I think that, even if you never meet someone offline, it doesn’t make them any more, or less, of a friend. I chat to people in many different countries and I’m sure most of you do, too. Stop and think. Ask yourself: Have you shared anything intimate (and I’m not talking sex here, I’m talking emotion) with that person? I have. There’s only a handful of people that I trust enough with my big life secret. I’m not telling you. It has to come naturally, but the fact is, I don’t tell everyone about it, because most people don’t believe me. It’s one of those things that sounds too fantastic to be true. I don’t keep it a secret to deceive people, it’s just one of those things I’d rather forget about. It feels horrible, but sometimes you just have to think about yourself. If you didn’t, you’d probably go insane.
Anyway, let’s now look at the word ‘fantastic’. Most people will have associated it with something good and spectacular, but it just ain’t, in this context. It’s something bizarre; grotesque; downright unbelievable. You could even say ‘so fucked up, it’s not real’. It’s real alright. Too fzarking real.
The misuse of words in English fucking pisses me off, I’m sorry, but I had to swear there to convey just how much it annoys me.
Alright, so I abuse and misuse English words, I’ve done it a few times in this piece already, but here’s a thing: I’m Scottish, which makes me British, which makes me, logically speaking, just a wee bit English, so I can abuse my own language because, well, I bally well speak it and we bloody well invented it! Why on earth would it be called English if it wasn’t invented in England? Or maybe those Sassenachs (by the way, etymological aside here: I’m not being racist, that’s an actual Gaelic word, from the word Sassen, which means ‘English man’, so there.) are just trying to take over the world. Who knows? I like English folk. Heck, it’s an English folk I’m in love with!
Really though, language, geography, distance: It shouldn’t stop you from loving someone. If you love someone, do it. Do it with all your heart, even if they never know.
Love is beautiful,
Love is universal,
We all understand it,
We’re just empty vessels.
Even if you don’t know it, you’re being loved by someone out there. So, even if you don’t think you’re lovable, I say, just keep plodding along. One day you will find someone that loves you, even if it’s not in this life.
Love will find you.
And to Her, I say:
I love you.
More than you’ll ever know.
I can’t say much more than that:
There are just no more words.
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