Logic Beach: Part I

by Exurb1a

reckon love is really confirmed in disgust. There comes a moment when the apple of your eye does something just absolutely hideous; rolls over to kiss you in the morning with Satan’s breath, says something a little mean about you at a party while you're standing right there, leaves the stench of shit in the bathroom unsuspectingly. And that is when love is either born or stillborn. The propagandised lover you’ve been sleeping with suddenly turns into a real, shitting person. In that moment you either plot a path out of the arrangement or give yourself over completely.

“Now he has departed from this strange world a little ahead of me. That means nothing. People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

I’m pretty certain love is an evolutionary trick to convince a species with exceptionally dumb infants to stay together long enough for those infants to grow up.