Hi strangers, I am in a state of constant discord and distraction, and I noticed that I’m still paying domain/hosting fees on this thing. Might as well get my money’s worth, right?
What are words worth though? Like, per dollar in this instance. If I pay, hypothetically, $50 a year to maintain this domain, how many words do I need to type to at least break even? I know I’m not *actually* making any money on this blog, of course. There is no *tangible* ROI to be had here. At what point is the fulfillment and relief worth the price though?
Oh, that’s a cute metaphor haha. I think I know what I’m going to write about today (I did already, but let me freaking have this please).
Do you ever feel like you’re just in too deep? Have you ever heard of the “sunk cost” fallacy? I know my previous entries have been heavy on the philosophical shit and trying to come to logical conclusions, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually broke into actual rhetorical concepts or talked about logical fallacies before. I’m still not going to do that now. I’m just saying, I’ve never done it before either. Get off my back.
Anyway, the sunk cost fallacy describes how we often refuse to give up on things that we have invested heavily into, despite it being obvious that letting go is the objective correct decision. I’ve put so much time, effort, and even money into this relationship. I know this person is awful to me and is probably not going to get better, but I’ve already invested so much of my life to this. I can’t back out now!
WAIT WAIT
I want to talk about something else actually! Love’s a bitch, isn’t it??
You know I love (lol) being all pretentious and appealing to the random, written down thoughts of dead people. So…. the ancient Greek philosophers described six different types of love: storge, philia, eros, agape, xenia, and philautia. Storge was the word used to describe the type of love one feels for their family. Philia described friendly or platonic love. Philautia was the ancient word for probably the most neglected and discounted type of love their is: self-love. Agape described divine or transcendent love – as in the kind of love that a deity might have for its creation. Xenia describes a kind of odd one to me, that being the love a host has for their guest. Different times I suppose, yeah? I would rather you stay out of my house, if I’m being honest. You’re making me uncomfortable.
Then finally, there is the only kind of love that anyone ever seems to openly give a damn about. The golden child of the “Love family”, so to speak. The type of love that brings greater meaning to life, destroys nations, and inspires some of the most annoying fucking songs you’ve ever heard in your life. I’m talking, of course, of eros – romantic love. The kind of love that equalizes us and makes us all act like complete morons. The kind of love that often finds itself wrapped up in that sunk cost fallacy. The kind of love that honestly consumes all of the other forms of love, rendering them weak, irrelevant. The only form of love – at least arguably only alongside philia – that requires true internal passion. Love for ones family is implied and expected inherently (even if that doesn’t mean it’s always present), kindness towards a guest is expected by society. Eros, however, demands that you be an active participant and put forth effort.
It overshadows all, it makes us act against our better judgement, it makes us hurt ourselves, it makes us hurt others even. Some people even commit mass murders in the name of Eros. Eros is the kind of bitch that will burn down your house, smash the windows out of your car, get you fired from your job, and pawn your PS5 for beer money. But despite all that, you go back to Eros, because you’re wrapped around their little finger and they know it.
Eros is a real piece of shit I know, but daddy I love her!
At the same time though, Eros is a raging all consuming flame that one can touch or even bathe in without being burned. It’s a fascinating force of nature that can make one feel invincible. Like the main character of the greatest novel ever written. It makes us act irrationally, but it also makes the act of being irrational feel so good. It inspires us to do anything, really. From stripping down to our barest and most vulnerable forms before another person to weaving social and philosophical commentary that persists for thousands of years beyond ourselves.
Hozier wrote: “I would burn every soul I knew if I thought the fire was warming you”
I can’t think of a more intensely human statement. I can’t think of a better definition for Eros. That is beyond rational comprehension. That one statement makes me feel something. And I know that Hozier ain’t writing those lyrics for me, *and* I just got done calling Eros a toxic bitch. Just reading that line though and I’m right back to explaining to my friends that Eros isn’t such a bad person. You just don’t know him like I do!
Eros is that intangible, indescribable, impossible feeling that blows up the cold logic of living in the modern world. It buries the very concept of “pros vs cons”. You can have a thousand reasons to distance yourself from someone, but Eros is infinite and self-replicating.
Endless Void, if it isn’t obvious, I’m going through a nasty break up right now. It’s okay, it’s not the first time and – given my lengthy, unhealthy history with Eros – it probably won’t be the last time either. C’est la vie.
I’m not here to necessarily to unpack my personal bullshit though. I just feel like I’m in the perfect state of mind to explore what this all might mean in the grand scheme of the human experience. I’m nothing if not utterly pretentious and self-aggrandizing. Or, I at least play the role of self-aggrandizing bullshit artist on the internet. Since you’re trapped on this elevator with me at the moment, why not take a whiff of my farts with me for a moment though too?
Do you believe in the concept of the “soulmate”, Endless Void? That there is someone out there that is specifically tuned to your own magnetic field? That there is a person that one can bond with more strongly than anyone else? To a perfect extent. The idea that someone out there is so compatible with you that your bond with them can’t be broken once realized, and that the bond transcends all other possible bonds one can have. Personally, I think various caveats need to be carved out when describing this concept. I think a parent, for example, should have a stronger bond with their own child than with their supposed soulmate. Historically, the term has been used to describe bonds across all the different forms of love after all – from familial to platonic to romantic. I think most people consider it to fall exclusively under the domain of Eros though. That selfish prick.
I’m genuinely on the fence on this topic. I think every new love feels like the discovery of your soulmate, but then again, not every partner can be a soulmate, right? Isn’t the idea that there is only one? No one ever says “you’re a soulmate”, it’s always “you’re my soulmate”. That implies a singular person to me, but I could be wrong. They say that “hard times make hard men”, and I kind of view relationships in a similar light. I don’t generally consider myself to be a strict relativist, but I do think relationships are built upon material conditions (!!MARXISM MENTIONED, +10 POINTS!!). Although Eros can, at times and quite often, materialize in spite of those conditions rather than being in tandem with them.
I’m firing on all cylinders with the pop culture references today, but here’s another:
“If you have chemistry then you only need one other thing – timing. But timing’s a bitch.”
Somehow, some way, this slightly above average sitcom has summarized my entire thesis here in perhaps the most eloquent way anyone could. I dump thousands of words into these things and ramble on forever about shit no one cares about or will probably ever read. And Robin Scherbatsky becomes famous with three words.
Timing’s a bitch.
Material conditions create “soulmates”. Love isn’t an action in a vacuum. It’s reactive, purely. Perhaps the most reactive emotion we can experience. It’s fickle, it’s irrational, it’s comforting, it’s painful, it’s ugly, and it’s the most beautiful thing we can ever hope to experience as human beings.
On any given day we might find ourselves magnetized to countless people. That warm fuzzy feeling we get when the object of our affection tells us how good we make them feel. The intrusive, inappropriate thoughts that pop into our heads when we see a total stranger that embodies the arbitrary aesthetic qualities that make us want to rip our clothes off. Even the slow burn, progressive attraction that we don’t even realize is there until our friend makes fun of us for giggling like a fool at every dumb joke that idiot made while we were in line for coffee or something.
Walking chemical reactions they are. With the proper conditions, with that ingredient of timing, a spark ignites and you find yourself consumed by Eros. Sometimes the fire swallows us whole and leaves nothing but ash in its wake. Sometimes the fire laps at us gently, warming us, leading us into incredible purpose and meaning.
If I am permitted to be a bit overly personal here, Endless Void… I don’t really believe in any of this shit right now. I don’t believe that Eros has a gentle side. I don’t believe there is any substantial meaning to be found in embracing her. Right now, I feel that the entire human experience, the relationships we have, the bonds we form are all just phony crap that can’t possibly sustain themselves. Love isn’t real. Chemistry is an illusion. And timing *is* a bitch. Eros is nothing but an evil actor. A barrier between us and true self-actualization – whatever the fuck that even means on its own. Why know and love yourself if you can’t share it with others in the most passionate ways our minds allow? Right now, I believe that love is a lie. And a completely conditional one at that. A tool or weapon at its best.
I know that I am wrong though. I hope that I am wrong. I need so fucking badly to be wrong. I am begging the six forms of love, the dead old bullshit artists, whatever blasted higher power there is to just tell me I am completely wrong… I am throwing myself on the ground and begging to be wrong. Because if I’m right… “God” help me. “God” help us all. Self-love loses its value. Familial love ceases to exist or can only exist through the context of pain. Platonic love becomes stagnant and robotic. If I am right, we truly are in hell. We are fucking cursed. We are in hell and there is no place else to go. Eros is just a lake of fire that we’re all burning in, indirectly or otherwise.
So please… please let me be wrong. I don’t want to be right.
Tune in next week for more politics and unwieldy metaphors, I guess.
agirlhasnoname. 