11. Coup de foudre - love at first sight; a connection to another person which becomes thrilling, delicious , sought after center of the world.
12. Being in love can feel like falling and soaring, it can make a person hot or cold, dizzy or calm.
13. Addiction is chronic or habitual use of any checmical substance to alter states of body and mind for other than medically warranted purposes
14. Psychological dependence is the subjective feeling that the user needs the drug to maintain a feeling of well being.
15. Physical dependence is characterized by tolerance( the need for increasingly larger doses in order to achieve the initial effect) and withdrawal symptoms when the user is abstinent.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Excerpt #1
1. Language can hardly express a lover's confident, rapturous state of mind
2. In love, everything about the beloved seems thrilling and fascinating.
3. Yet all these characteristics: the narrowing of our world, the obsession, the experience of obstacles as an aphrodisiac, the inability to resist, are also symptoms of a kind of slavery to the substance or person that causes them.
4. were we in the grip of a magnificent obsession fueled by the many obstacle in its path? were we soul mates, or were we being pulled forward by compulsions and desires that take over from reason in situations where love is concerned?
5. I do not like to work with patients who are in love. Perhaps, it is because of envy - I, too,crave enchantment. Perhaps it is because love and psychotherapy are fundamentally incompatible. The good therapist fights darkness and seeks illumination, while romantic love is sustained by mystery and crumbles on inspection. I hate to be love's executioner. - Stanford Psychiatrist Irvin D. Yalom
6. The opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is indifference. - Maggie Scarf
7. Addiction is defined by behavior, not by fantasy. With sexual behavior, as with alcoholism, addiction cant be measured by the amount someone drinks or their number of sexual partners. Is everyone who get drunk an alcoholic? Certainly not.
8. Addicts with many different substances are able to control the effects of one by using another.
9. Overeating can diminish the pain of remorse.
10. The rush of energy, the euphoria in the presence of a loved one, possessiveness and the heightened state of lovers when they are together is not exclusive to our species.
2. In love, everything about the beloved seems thrilling and fascinating.
3. Yet all these characteristics: the narrowing of our world, the obsession, the experience of obstacles as an aphrodisiac, the inability to resist, are also symptoms of a kind of slavery to the substance or person that causes them.
4. were we in the grip of a magnificent obsession fueled by the many obstacle in its path? were we soul mates, or were we being pulled forward by compulsions and desires that take over from reason in situations where love is concerned?
5. I do not like to work with patients who are in love. Perhaps, it is because of envy - I, too,crave enchantment. Perhaps it is because love and psychotherapy are fundamentally incompatible. The good therapist fights darkness and seeks illumination, while romantic love is sustained by mystery and crumbles on inspection. I hate to be love's executioner. - Stanford Psychiatrist Irvin D. Yalom
6. The opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is indifference. - Maggie Scarf
7. Addiction is defined by behavior, not by fantasy. With sexual behavior, as with alcoholism, addiction cant be measured by the amount someone drinks or their number of sexual partners. Is everyone who get drunk an alcoholic? Certainly not.
8. Addicts with many different substances are able to control the effects of one by using another.
9. Overeating can diminish the pain of remorse.
10. The rush of energy, the euphoria in the presence of a loved one, possessiveness and the heightened state of lovers when they are together is not exclusive to our species.
Excerpt #2
11. Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world. Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death.
12. You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes her.
12. You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes her.
Excerpt # 1
1. I'd shake my head microscopically and exhale in response
2. It occurred to me why they call it "eye contact"
3. I fear oblivion (fact or condition of forgetting or having forgotten)
4. Withholding judgment! When can I see you?
5. That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.
6. That's why I like you. Do you realize how rare it is to come across a hot girl who creates an adjectival version of the word pedophile? You are so busy being you that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.
7. I'm in love with you and m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you and i know that love is just a shout into the void and that oblivion is inevitable and that we are all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust and i know the sun will swallow only the earth well ever have and i'm in love with you.
8. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.
9. I'm on a roller coaster ride that only goes up and it is my privilege and my responsibility to ride all the way up with you.
10. The world is not a wish-granting factory
2. It occurred to me why they call it "eye contact"
3. I fear oblivion (fact or condition of forgetting or having forgotten)
4. Withholding judgment! When can I see you?
5. That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.
6. That's why I like you. Do you realize how rare it is to come across a hot girl who creates an adjectival version of the word pedophile? You are so busy being you that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.
7. I'm in love with you and m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you and i know that love is just a shout into the void and that oblivion is inevitable and that we are all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust and i know the sun will swallow only the earth well ever have and i'm in love with you.
8. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.
9. I'm on a roller coaster ride that only goes up and it is my privilege and my responsibility to ride all the way up with you.
10. The world is not a wish-granting factory
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Better
Is there anyone in the world
who has never felt like a bad person?
These are the things you have stolen, you confess:
cookies from a jar when you were three
a couple of twenties from your father’s wallet
an idea from a classmate—
you couldn’t help it;
it was right there
unguarded
a guy your good friend loved.
I’m not who everyone believes I am, you say,
and I reply, It’s okay, I’m not everyone.
These are the things you don’t deserve, you fear:
a clean slate
forgiveness
a place on top of a pedestal,
shining like a trophy perched surely
on a shelf, for everyone
to admire
a happily ever after
the right to make
mistakes.
Your mind clouds with doubt, worry that you will not
be a better woman, but my heart is awash with the well-lit
certainty that you already are.
Know this:
know that this happiness is yours
from now on, always
it has not been handed to you;
it has been earned
through the years you have lived,
built, cared, carried
a vision of greatness inside of you,
through the years you have persisted,
planted your feet firmly on the ground,
gritted your teeth against the sadness,
disappointment, loss—it’s not like
you have been spared of a crushed heart pressed, squeezed
into a chink in the armor half its size so that it would stay
in place, where it belongs—it’s not like
you’ve never been hurt yourself.
And I know you hate it when people say
You Deserve It instead of Congratulations—
because what about the people who worked
hard, tried hard, prayed
hard, fucking wanted it
so much only to watch it evaporate like fish piss; what about them?—
but you deserve it,
you do.
You say, I feel like I will always be trying
to keep the demons on the other side of the gate, and I tell you,
Good. Don’t ever stop.
My mind is wide open, free, and my love is
yours; you don’t need permission to
take it.
You are better now
that the happiness is home
and you can clutch it to your chest
sew it onto your sleeve
wake up to it
breathe it in every minute
tack it up on your bedroom wall
Ziplock it
laminate it
blog about it
write a song about it
write a novel loosely based on it
make a t-shirt out of it
kiss it gently
kiss it awkwardly
kiss it hard
tell it a dumb joke
make it an afternoon snack
bake it a cake
share it with your parents
share it with the world
stay in on Sundays with it
grow old with it
be silent with it
stuff it into your pockets
carry it around with you wherever you go.
You are better now,
don’t fumble.
who has never felt like a bad person?
These are the things you have stolen, you confess:
cookies from a jar when you were three
a couple of twenties from your father’s wallet
an idea from a classmate—
you couldn’t help it;
it was right there
unguarded
a guy your good friend loved.
I’m not who everyone believes I am, you say,
and I reply, It’s okay, I’m not everyone.
These are the things you don’t deserve, you fear:
a clean slate
forgiveness
a place on top of a pedestal,
shining like a trophy perched surely
on a shelf, for everyone
to admire
a happily ever after
the right to make
mistakes.
Your mind clouds with doubt, worry that you will not
be a better woman, but my heart is awash with the well-lit
certainty that you already are.
Know this:
know that this happiness is yours
from now on, always
it has not been handed to you;
it has been earned
through the years you have lived,
built, cared, carried
a vision of greatness inside of you,
through the years you have persisted,
planted your feet firmly on the ground,
gritted your teeth against the sadness,
disappointment, loss—it’s not like
you have been spared of a crushed heart pressed, squeezed
into a chink in the armor half its size so that it would stay
in place, where it belongs—it’s not like
you’ve never been hurt yourself.
And I know you hate it when people say
You Deserve It instead of Congratulations—
because what about the people who worked
hard, tried hard, prayed
hard, fucking wanted it
so much only to watch it evaporate like fish piss; what about them?—
but you deserve it,
you do.
You say, I feel like I will always be trying
to keep the demons on the other side of the gate, and I tell you,
Good. Don’t ever stop.
My mind is wide open, free, and my love is
yours; you don’t need permission to
take it.
You are better now
that the happiness is home
and you can clutch it to your chest
sew it onto your sleeve
wake up to it
breathe it in every minute
tack it up on your bedroom wall
Ziplock it
laminate it
blog about it
write a song about it
write a novel loosely based on it
make a t-shirt out of it
kiss it gently
kiss it awkwardly
kiss it hard
tell it a dumb joke
make it an afternoon snack
bake it a cake
share it with your parents
share it with the world
stay in on Sundays with it
grow old with it
be silent with it
stuff it into your pockets
carry it around with you wherever you go.
You are better now,
don’t fumble.
Strings
We were sewn together as if texture
didn't matter: me, all flannel and mildness
and here, and you, with your leather
palms and mighty plans, a heavy-duty
restlessness outlined on your back.
Nobody ever said this out loud but
in their minds they feared that someday
we would be left clutching at frayed hems
and worn-out edges; in their minds they tried
to warn us when the needle and thread
touched our skin, stitching my sighs
onto yours, weaving all our warmths
into one. In the beginning I kept waiting
for things to fall apart at the seams, but now
there is softness in your searching and
a sturdiness to my stillness, and these days
the way we have come to define peace is,
if we take a closer look, pretty much the
same thing. This is the fabric of us, love—
we have been covered from day one.
didn't matter: me, all flannel and mildness
and here, and you, with your leather
palms and mighty plans, a heavy-duty
restlessness outlined on your back.
Nobody ever said this out loud but
in their minds they feared that someday
we would be left clutching at frayed hems
and worn-out edges; in their minds they tried
to warn us when the needle and thread
touched our skin, stitching my sighs
onto yours, weaving all our warmths
into one. In the beginning I kept waiting
for things to fall apart at the seams, but now
there is softness in your searching and
a sturdiness to my stillness, and these days
the way we have come to define peace is,
if we take a closer look, pretty much the
same thing. This is the fabric of us, love—
we have been covered from day one.
On Doubts
“And your doubt can become a good quality if you train it. It must become knowing, it must become criticism. Ask it, whenever it wants to spoil something for you, why something is ugly, demand proofs from it, test it, and you will find it perhaps bewildered and embarrased, perhaps also protesting. But don't give in, insist on arguments, and act in this way, attentive and persistent, every single time, and the day will come when, instead of being a destroyer, it will become one of your best workers--- perhaps the most intelligent of all the ones that are building your life.”
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
God's blessing
I woke up to find that my heart is hushed, and once again, reassured of life's goodness, His goodness; thankful for the blessing that is you.
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