The word [jealousy] comes from the ancient Greek Ζῆλος, meaning ‘zeal’ or 'hot pursuit,’ which is also an extreme evacuation of the self—when we pursue with zeal, we leave ourselves behind. We are so deeply invest in the other that we manage, finally, to get beyond our own selves. This is the promise and the work of infatuation; it enables and even forces the self to exceed itself; it forces the ego to realise that life exists, thrives, beyond its own boundaries; in short, that life (as Gilles Deleuze said) is not a personal thing. Ironically, the complete and self-absorbed event that is infatuation is one of the quickest routes to jealousy, which is, in turn, one of the quickest and surest ways to catapult one outside oneself.
The love felt for the other awakens a kind of knowledge. This knowledge is that the beloved is never innocent, for the love itself is the derivation of ruin.
sometimes i turn around and catch the smell of you and i cannot go on i cannot fucking go on without expressing this terrible so fucking awful physical aching fucking longing i have for you. and i cannot believe that i can feel this for you and you feel nothing. do you feel nothing?
words.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject