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Derivatives called Love

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2012

Julia 2008
Photograph  by Kim Barry
What's braver than giving love to those you simply care for without their permission, possession, or prudence- without their reaction, return, or regard? No war hero metals compare. Too many have lived too closely to life without it and the dark places that are created when the heart  is not fed. What then is braver than  creating a life, a reality of faith that materializes into spaces that magnet those that need it, want it, give it, and spread it through the basic religious  action of coming together  and leaving isolation at home. It has the power to instantly transform our thoughts, words, actions, interactions, and lives- 
Forever and for better. 
Imagine there is no contract, no expectations, no false guilt-driven, blood draining, future unmutually decided commitments drawn up as terms and compensation for the illusion of it from one person to the other. An illusion, it could only be. In that light, it is not love,  but a series of desperate,  controlling ropes attempting to tie up one's life to an imaginary buoy of safety and, then ..... Crap!..... they quickly realize they don't want to drift in their web of stinky seaweed alone. 
As that definition of love is generally understood, many people run screaming from me like I'm Baby Jane when I say I love them -- off the cuff -- no pretense, just an "is" thing. With what that word's heavy balls and chains seem to mean by most people, I'd be more appropriate in my approach as a medieval torture device.
Even though the great myth makers through the ages preach of a truer, free love,  we seem to only understand and like our familiar prisons, don't we, no matter the draft? We either consider this "free love" as effing everything in sight like blind,  emotionally crippled bunnies or kidnap someone off the street and proceed to remake the film, "Boxing Helena." - how romantic...... Clearly, I don't go on many dates.  I hear people convincing themselves with their language that love is a daily grind of limiting conversation of should's, "sacrifice", and a constant questioning of what is allowed and approved by the other, their family, their friends, the dog, the mailman, and that all knowing seer of critical, self imprisoning thinking, Rush to a Limpball,  as they tune-in in perfect, commuter time for the latest fashionable, fascist thought. It comes down to what effing color their undies should be today. And everyone can agree it is acceptable, nay, desirable, if you choose the exact ones like the store mannequin. No wonder we now call the dark things, light, and the light things, dark, and take prescribed drugs to suppress the natural urge to questions that are constant bubbling up from retarded living. 
I hear people making love into being a cash call on the premise that who loves you the most, spends the most on you. And the idea of mutual respect,  understanding, and honest conversation to begin with? Well that' s just silly.  It's a one way street. Cut and dry. He gets me my blingy bing and it's Open Sesame for my magic doors. Sounds like more of a business profession to me. Could this be why the honest side of that conversation is illegal? Too many nervous breakdowns would arise with the Stepford Wives if the mirror was unveiled in plain terms of business first, love zero. If you are looking for that zoo,  we got a bunch of gorillas on Wall St. in just such a conversation with many a funny-money,farmed raised, Material Girls and the boys can't get enough profits in their penises.  Kinda funny to watch but  they like to steal wallets from viewers and newbie players.  You have been warned.  No wonder, those on the freedom trail comprehend love as more of a dark crystal of life-- ready to suck their life force out by way of staring at its luscious boobies for 10 seconds. as they momentary come to and think, "Wait... Did I pay for that boob job, too? Where'd my credit card go?! Eff."
Let's get better with ourselves  and each other- whatever  that may be. Why? Because we are just chasing derivatives called love in the hope of finding the real thing, right? We wouldn't continue to be miserable pricks if we were just satisfied with our twisted veil of the word if we wanted just the derivative, right? The real power juice is all around if you plug into it and let it out of yourself. Surprise, jar, and inspire it out of someone else by saying those words, mean it, feel it, and then walk away when possession will kill it. I call it practical use in freeing up a perfectly misused, misunderstood word that if used properly, would change heaven to earth and earth to heaven. It's a magic word unfortunately held prisoner by dark crystal forces of controlling, capitalist, cunning. Use your best case imagination by coming to every person and situation with the belief that you are ok and the world is ok and this new person is ok, too. I don't need to own or be owned to share what it is I want and desire- love. It works best without cages and ropes, unless 
your into that thing, then have fun but try to come out occasionally for air.  We'd all like to see you now and again
Posted by Kim Barry on 10/4/12 | tags: conceptual love possession control COMMERCE humur Political







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