Love someone. Love someone everyday. Love someone before they are taken. Love someone before the Earth steals them. Love someone before the World turns their time into stardust. Love someone before it’s too late for you to love.
It’s never too late for you to start to love as long as air still flows through your lungs and your heart still churns out blood. It’s never too late for you to start to love as long as life still holds a kernel of possibility from within your flesh. It’s never too late for you to start to love as long as your raison d’etre is still to be determined. Your raison d’etre is still to be determined as long as air still flows through your lungs and your heart still churns out blood.
Love something. Do something you love everyday. Love something before your capacity to love something is stolen. Love something before your everything returns to the Earth. Love something before the World turns everything back to stardust. Love something before it’s too late for you to love.
It’s never too late for you to do something you love. We can squeeze out stolen time in the midst of hardships. We can bellow harmonies at jazz clubs for the dogs to hear. We can write poems in the cut, under the world, for friendships that won’t be swallowed by anything other than time itself. But we must do something we love if even for a moment, if even for an occasion.
Why love? Because love is the affirmation of the entanglement that is everything that is. Because love is an unwillingness to submit to the principles of power in the name of the higher power that is softness. Because love is the radical movement of the movers and shakers of the World. It is the dance that won’t stop dancin’ until the body stops processing the write combination of step, start and shimmy. It is the intensification of being-in-the-World through the situating of one’s being-in-the-world from within a network of tenderness. Love because love is a power struggle that struggles to build a world without power. Because love is only love when it is unconditional. It is attachment without attachment, detachment without being detached. It is togetherness that does not control. It is held-ness that does not possess. It is dispossessed possession.
You do not have to love. It’s not an obligation. But, entanglement is. We are all in this sinking ship together. Collapsing under the waves of a World gone astray. And there is no meaning. There is no purpose. Only being as torment and being as being-with. I find love to be a relational bridge in the midst of the torment that is being itself. I find love to be ontological resistance: the praxis of consenting not to be a single being. And indeed, what a painful experience love is, what a painful experience being-is, but there is nothing more but love and war and only one may be an option.