And Maybe an End to Things, Too.

I’m contemplating shutting this blog down for good. A lot has happened these past few weeks: most of them bad, some of them just plain terrible. I’m surprised I haven’t gone bonkers. I really thought I would. Maybe I still will. I don’t know; it’s all a big muddle right now. One thing is clear to me, though: you don’t hurt those you love. Those that do this do not love you truly, or if they do, then it’s a sick love you are better off without. I’m reminded of Ron Sexsmith’s song, “These Days”.

Promises are made to be broken haven’t you heard
You said he’d never break your heart now haven’t you learned
You believed in the words and all that they meant
Whoaw, but love is not some popular song filled with empty sentiment

That’s what passes for love
That’s what passes for love these days

It’s strange and sad what passes itself off as love these days. And, for that reason, it gets harder to believe that love–the selfless kind–exists at all, and so I resolve that under further notice, I shall put more faith in my zafu than in people’s declarations of love. My zafu’s never let me down, and until its stuffings give out, I don’t think it ever will.