I wonder what it would be like to be somebody who wrote or arranged romantic stuff. It seems like it would fucking suck. You'd either have to keep some wound open so you could keep fishing stuff out of it, or destroy all your relationships as a hobby just to get new material. Do you think those people are fulfilled? I wonder what their relationship statistics look like. I know philosophers have a reputation for not being married, or at least not to other people. They all seem to have a lot to say about love though, I know Plato has some irrelevant number of kinda of it he defines. Splitting hairs maybe splitting things in two. Ironic for talk of relationships, splitting, but that's what refinement has always been. Just because something is lost doesn't mean you didn't have it, infact some things can only be true at a place an time. Does "the one" exist is pretty big question, could be more than one? But you'd be lucky to have more than being single, hell anyone would. That's why that shit seems so magical, chance, happenstance, destiny; if that shit doesn't change the world it certainly will change yours when it happens. Breathe life into things you thought were dead, bring colours out, make you thrilled just to be, even if that being is sometimes agony. Hell it's mostly agony or it wouldn't have such a powerful effect, not because that's all that's there, but because it becomes more than what's just there. Something beyond that draws with a special quality that escapes capture, even when they agree to be. Love makes a world, even if it can only be accessed by those absorbed in it, sometimes evn a world you'd want forever, even though that's with exceptional rarity how it works out. One things for sure though the way we can love to live, the passions we carry when we in habit those worlds, while those heights are available, those dances are kind I would like to see in a revolution<3