a first time for everything

Figuring Out What Love is
( Fowl ) : The Research
The Rant and the Ramble

Here's a bonus treat for you, on my eleventh month : paragraphs, finally . It's about time, you say . And yes, I will try it out . I think it actually makes me want to write more . Just try and make sense of what it all means, what I mean by all this . Just try and figure out what is important, and what is just rambling . Not that rambling is not important .. it just depends .

Rather than using a "regular" or a "normal" dictionary or encyclopedia, I use Wiktionary and Wikipedia, because I don't want to know what a small group of people think, who care only about recording the denotation .. I want to know what the world thinks . But perhaps the wikis are not pure thought either, because there are moderators that demand that only certain things be allowed on the entry page . I don't want only these certain things . I want the real deal . I am tired of censorship . I am tired of the media, skewing the general image of the world . I am tired of being sheltered . I am tired of having the channel be changed . I am tired of having to leet out certain words . I am tired of being punished because I want to know the truth . So I go to the talk page, the one place where people actually can write whatever they want .. I think . But unfortunately, not much talking goes on on those pages . And that that does is not too helpful, not too useful to my cause . On Wiktionary, RSvK says that love's "most important definition of all" was missed .. but he doesn't say what that is . So chances are, he is mocking us . He doesn't know . He just likes to pretend, he likes to say he knows . He likes to feel mysterious, he likes to seem mysterious . He likes to act like he is so much smarter than everyone else, because he is really very miserable . If he knew, he would have said so, he would have told us then, what is the most important definition of love . Or perhaps we was going to say so . Perhaps he was about to tell us, but someone stopped him . Some malicious, censoring fiend of society told him not to . Perhaps he did, but his thoughts were silenced, his words were erased, the truth was shrouded by some "moderator," who hopes it will be forgotten in a short while, who hopes that the world will remain the miserable, sheltered place that it is, and that no one will be even slightly aware of the truth . I have been reading The End, and Snicket's thoughtful thinking, allegorical life lessons, have gotten me thoughtfully thinking as well . It is often hard to tell who is good, and who is not . And it is the goal that matters, the objective, what are you trying to do . Are you good-hearted or not so much, are your wishes going to save the world or defeat it . My past is not so great . I have done things that now I regret, to which now I think, whatever the heck was I thinking that day . Oh, I have been into mischief . But so have the Baudelaires, and if you have read a decent amount of the series you probably know what I am talking about . They had to do "bad" things in their past that they are not proud of, but they had good intentions . And so do I . They want to make up for what they have done . I want to make up for what the world has done . Similar to the show Prisonbreak . You must have seen at least an episode of that . Sure, they are convicts . Sure, they committed crimes . But are they proud of them ? Of course not . Why can't anyone see what really matters ? They are running away from the law, but they are just trying to escape the bad guys . They are trying to fight their way out of this trap of a world, to somewhere where they can simply sit down safely and read a book, without having to worry about when the others will catch up and they will have to face the risk of being captured once again . And it is a shame that I only have two hours a day to express my feelings, two hours a day . Think how little that is . Think how much more I could accomplish if I could stay here typing all day and all night, without stopping for more than a little while . And yes, I could type nonstop . I am typing nonstop right now . I have so many thoughts running through my mind, there is no way I could get them all down even if I had all the time in the world . But I don't even have that . I have two hours a day . And the rest of my thoughts, I have to sustain somewhere . It's quite painful actually, sometimes . I have to try to retain them until I can finally have a chance tomorrow to let them out, to let go, to have them fly away, finally safely down and saved . Half of my thoughts are lost, forgotten . They never get a chance to fly away . It is so hard to find pure thought these days . The only true way is to go straight to the source . And the closest I can think of to that, besides perhaps an interview, is quotes . Quotes, if utilized properly, which hopefully they are, tell exactly what someone has said . A quote expresses a thought clearly, truly, purely . So I could go read some of those . But this only leads to disappointment . Quotes are often encrypted, so that there is actually no clear meaning, so that it is almost near impossible to find what they truly mean . At this point I have forgotten what I was saying . It seems I have strayed off the prompt a bit . And I apologize for that .

The word "love" comes from the Old English word "lufu" . But I don't see how that really matters, so I suppose you can just take it as a piece of useless trivia . And now my sister asks me if I am doing homework . As if homework is the only important thing in the whole world ! I say no . So soon it will be her turn . And she will do homework, that malicious word, that concept of pure evil . And now I am becoming angry . Angry that the world is so messed up, and that no one cares to do anything about it . Messed up physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually .. And now is the time I say zomfg . And he knew that another one of his times was coming on . And the world is too much to handle . Your blood boils . Your muscles clench . Your temperature rises . And your skin turns the most brilliant shade of Red . But I will not lose control . And my pronouns are messed up . You know why ? Quotations without quotations . And I am beginning to be careless with my typing . I have forgotten what should be capitalized, and where I should put an extra period . Oh my goodness, sometimes I think I need Lenna back . Just to hold me together . But that is not me talking . It must be the hormones . Oh my goodness, I know I don't need anyone . I know this is how it should be . There are no answers without pain, there is no truth without suffering . Therefore a temper is a good thing to have . Back to love, someone says on the talk page that love is man's greatest weakness . That I completely agree with . But he also says love is fake . Love is nothing more than a false feeling . I am not sure how to answer this, so I am going to answer it in both ways . I am going to answer it assuming that the real we have come to know and love really is real, and I am going to say that he is wrong . Love is in fact quite real in this real, or I suppose you could say in this realm . But the real we have come to know and love is not really real . He is right in saying that love is a false feeling because all feeling is false . There is no real . None of this means anything . It is all just a little game that the so-called God likes to play with us . You are going to die one day, and it is all going to be over . That is what Bobo is for . Bobo the hero . I like what Locke said in LOST .. " I was never meant to do anything . Every single second of my pathetic little life is as useless as that button ! You think it's important ? You think it's necessary ? It's nothing . It's nothing . It's meaningless . And who are you to tell me that it's not ? " Read this . He sees that the thought of his destiny, the button, is a total falicy . But now I am getting into religious m

yeah . and that is
oh go d. I
i am totally lost .
I will save that for next time .

In conclusion, love cannot be defined .
We can only say not what love is, but what love is not .

= 1550 words

" Love is many things;
it is varied .
But one thing it is not,
and never will be,
is unsure . "
~ Madea ~

Strangely,
I am sure about her .

There is a first time for everything .

At this point, Chewy is the only thing I am sure about .

[ I'm done with this love thing ]

[ I changed my mind .
Love is reading all 1550 of my words .
Damn, that is a lot of words ]