And then there are times like these...

when my heart feels like it's about to explode.
The rest of my body, my hands, my feet, my eyes, my lips...everything and anything that has any memory of that connection, all feel a bit numb.

Actually, my heart can't explode, although I rather it would.
It's just going to sink, deep below my consciousness, far far away from my grasp.

And then it's going to wander aimlessly in that dark nothingness...
until it can lift itself out of that wide abyss of loss.

I can't let go of what I fought for for so long,
despite how impractical and unreasonable and unrealistic it may be.
But now, I'm forced to, and my brain has to be rewired after all those painful connections have already been made.

So I resist. But in the end, my plan fails anyway and I start over on a blank sheet of paper.

The only thing scarier than an empty sheet of paper is the realization that you don't have any desire, or volition to put anything on it.

There is always some madness in love...but there is also always some reason in madness. Really? At least that's what Nietzche said.

I see the madness but where is the reason? Is it something we come to realize 10 years after the fact when it no longer matters? Someone explain why I only see the madness, and no reason.

Nietzche was wrong. There is always some madness in love...and we try to justify that undeniable madness with a weak argument called reason, but in the end, we realize we've fooled ourselves--again.

Love, unfortunately, does not serve for anything.