About Love (1)
That Treacherous Thing …
I vividly remember my long afternoon walks in the park du Luxembourg in the Latin Quarter in Paris, as I used to lived across from it, Rue d’Assas. There were retired men talking about their war stories and playing pétanque, lovers silently hugging on benches, people just trying to be friends with each other, and me, flaneur crossing the park because it was on the Eastern side (the 5th arrondissement) that the philosophers were based, rue d’Ulm and I felt something vibrate in me there, just breathing the air & imbibing philosophy and the hype that came with it; it was a pilgrimage to my promised land. For years, as I routinely crossed that park, the same APlatonic depressing idea haunted me upon seeing the lovers embracing & cuddling each other on the benches, the idea of the transitory aspect of such intensity, and its potential reversal. The more intensely enthralled two being are with each other the harder they will try to hurt each other upon separation. They seemed to want to unite with each other, care about each other, protect each other, minister the smallest need in the other, cure the other of the small wounds, but, at some point in the future they might be inflicting the most scathing injury to the other. The nonlovers might be less close, but, in all likelihood, they should unconditionally stay friends, or, at least they are not expected to inflict harm on the other. I realized that there was an element in this treacherous thing called love that was not for philosophers.
(Words: Nassim Taleb)
(Picture: Colors ~ Rabin Karki)