A Letter to an Old Soul

Ok, I wrote a similar note a few blogs back: A Letter to a Young Soul.

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Here's another one, still about the dirty word we all love to hate. The FORCE we try to fight, avoid and dismiss as too overrated, overused, abused, weaponized with high grade plutonium that will scare Israel into World War 3: love, luv, lurv, my dripping, sappy heart. Ick.

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But beyond all the poetry of that magical fantasy that everyone hopes for: To love and be loved in return---cue Moulin Rouge theme---I have not really met anybody who is immune to this kind of sea sickness, me included.

Unwind Rewind: U2 on YouTube

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I love the metal riffs, the pain, the brokenness and the march of metaphors that follow:

You say you want
Diamonds on a ring of gold
You say you want
Your story to remain untold

But all the promises we make
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you

You say you'll give me
A highway with no one on it
Treasure just to look upon it
All the riches in the night

You say you'll give me
Eyes in a moon of blindness
A river in a time of dryness
A harbour in the tempest
But all the promises we make
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you

You say you want
Your love to work out right
To last with me through the night

You say you want
Diamonds on a ring of gold
Your story to remain untold
Your love not to grow cold

All the promises we break
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you

You...all I want is...
You...all I want is...
You...all I want is...
You...

Yes U2, you deserve a place in my altar. Give space, Ludwig and Fredeeric, a god has earned his votive and veneration.

Once again, it’s about a force of nature called love. Resistance is noble but futile. Prepare to be assimilated into the collective swoons and loopy hiccups.