On this blue green planet we call earth, we can only love, love with wretchedness, adversity and suffering, and love through suffering, so ultimately, love is suffering. We cannot love otherwise, and we know of no other sort of love. I want suffering in order to love, I need suffering in order to love. I crave, I long, I thirst, this very instant, for you, your body, to kiss your lips, to caress your face, gently, to feel your heaving bosom, to feel you, truly feel you, with every fibre of my being, with every sensory preceptive part of me, but, how can I want you without pain and anguish, but I want you nevertheless, and for that I need pain, pain, more pain and lots of it, coupled with the tears that the ol mighty earth gathered and have left for me, and I don’t want, I don’t need, I won’t accept any thing but lifeless life, on this, that, or any other earth that will soothe me, or lull me into a false sense of comfort to try to heal me, NO, leave me to be for I, I’m terminally wounded, eternally In love. Inspired by Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Notes from Underground
