"Why are you crying? Look just try acting like an adult for a second while I look through your notes"
"OK...putting aside your morbid thoughts for a second. I think that you are just distracting yourself from your REAL problems. I mean, what was it like growing up for you? Puberty is a very emotional time..."
"I'm sorry but this therapy session is not a philosophy debate. I don't have the answers to your questions"
]]>Et la rue m'habitue à n'être plus personne
presque plus personne
et la ville me force à suivre son rhythme fébrile
son rhythme fébrile
mais quand on se retrouve
quand il rentre le soir
il suffit d'un regard
et je suis moi
j'ai le ciel au bout des doigts
le monde au-dessous de moi
comme pour la première fois
je suis moi
j'entends, je sens et je vois
je suis moi
comme pour la première fois
je suis moi
et la rue me ramène à sa vie monotone
sa vie monotone
dans la ville je me perds, je m'oublie, je m'abondonne
oui je m'abondonne
mais quand on se retrouve
quand le ciel devient noir
il suffit d'un regard
et je suis moi
j'ai le ciel au bout des doigts
le monde au-dessous de moi
comme pour la première fois
je suis moi
j'entends, je sens et je vois
je suis moi
comme pour la première fois
je suis moi
je suis moi
j'ai le ciel au bout des doigts
le monde au-dessous de moi
comme pour la première fois
je suis moi
j'entends, je sens et je vois
je suis moi
comme pour la première fois
je suis moi
je suis moi...
Silvia, rimembri ancora
quel tempo della tua vita mortale,
quando beltà splendea
negli occhi tuoi ridenti e fuggitivi,
e tu, lieta e pensosa, il limitare
di gioventù salivi?
Sonavan le quiete
stanze, e le vie d'intorno,
al tuo perpetuo canto,
allor che all'opre femminili intenta
sedevi, assai contenta
di quel vago avvenir che in mente avevi.
Era il maggio odoroso: e tu solevi
così menare il giorno.
Io gli studi leggiadri
talor lasciando e le sudate carte,
ove il tempo mio primo
e di me si spendea la miglior parte,
d’in su i veroni del paterno ostello
porgea gli orecchi al suon della tua voce,
ed alla man veloce
che percorrea la faticosa tela.
Mirava il ciel sereno,
le vie dorate e gli orti,
e quinci il mar da lungi, e quindi il monte.
Lingua mortal non dice
quel ch’io sentiva in seno.
Che pensieri soavi,
che speranze, che cori, o Silvia mia!
Quale allor ci apparia
la vita umana e il fato!
Quando sovviemmi di cotanta speme,
un affetto mi preme
acerbo e sconsolato,
e tornami a doler di mia sventura.
O natura, o natura,
perché non rendi poi
quel che prometti allor? perché di tanto
inganni i figli tuoi?
Tu pria che l’erbe inaridisse il verno,
da chiuso morbo combattuta e vinta,
perivi, o tenerella. E non vedevi
il fior degli anni tuoi;
non ti molceva il core
la dolce lode or delle negre chiome,
or degli sguardi innamorati e schivi;
né teco le compagne ai dì festivi
ragionavan d’amore.
Anche perìa fra poco
la speranza mia dolce: agli anni miei
anche negaro i fati
la giovinezza. Ahi come,
come passata sei,
cara compagna dell’età mia nova,
mia lacrimata speme!
Questo è il mondo? questi
i diletti, l’amor, l’opre, gli eventi,
onde cotanto ragionammo insieme?
questa la sorte delle umane genti?
All’apparir del vero
tu, misera, cadesti: e con la mano
la fredda morte ed una tomba ignuda
mostravi di lontano.
This poem always makes me so sad. Nothing in this world is real; love never lasts, and it fades...and decays like everything else. Time swallows all... Don't read this as a tragic love poem. Read it as a reflection on life. Sorry if that depressed you, but this is how I feel and even if no-one reads this I need to express myself! On a similar note. I was given a poem to discuss in my Oxford italian interview which went something like this: 'You take the rose and pass it on, an inexplicable nothingness'.
]]>Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it- it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less-
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars- on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Robert Frost
]]>What is obsessive love?Forward and Buck believe that rejection is the trigger of obsessive love. They state four conditions to help identify it, namely, a painful and all-consuming preoccupation with a real or wished-for lover, an insatiable longing either to possess or be possessed by the target of their obsession, rejection by or physical and/or emotional unavailability of their target, and being driven to behave in self-defeating ways by this rejection or unavailability.
Obsessive lovers truly believe that their “one magic person” alone can make them feel happy and fulfilled.
Obsessive love can also have a great affect on certain individuals surrounding the "love addicted" person. These people are the silent victims sitting in corner and on the sidelines. The relationship of their friend, or family member brings deep angst and sorrow to them for having to see a person they are close to disintegrate, figuratively, right in front of them and be mixed into this controlling as well as controlled life style.
What causes it?
Hodgkinson believes several factors create a climate for obsessive love: leisure, as cited by anthropologist Branko Bokun, who believes obsessive love almost always happens at times in a persons life when they haven’t got enough to do; education, as nearly all obsessive lovers are educated people and thus able to think about and analyse their feelings; feelings of vulnerability and a perceived failure to belong, believed by Hodgkinson to be the most important factor, applicable to people such as those who do not have a recognised place in the world (e.g., those who are required to perform an unfulfilling job), and those undergoing dramatic life changes and the associated fear and lack of self-confidence; an inflated opinion of oneself, as this is believed to ultimately stem from insecurity, with this insecurity driving the obsessed to seek an individual with attributes that they want for themselves; particular childhood experiences, such as deep feelings of unworthiness during childhood that lead the obsessed to seek out one who finds the obsessed similarly unworthy in adulthood; feelings of being special and/or different, as there is an apparent correlation between feelings of distance from peers (whether real or perceived) and obsessive love; and inequality between the lover and the beloved, e.g., the beloved may be married, older, too young, famous, or otherwise unattainable.
It is worth noting that almost all of these conditions apply exclusively to the obsessed, and not to the target of their obsession.
Hodgkinson recommends realising that one who loves obsessively has not fallen in love with a real person, but rather an illusion. It is estimated that up to 90% of obsessive love is motivated by projection. The obsessed is not falling in love with their target because of any salient properties of the target, but for what that target represents to the obsessed. Hodgkinson suggests Regression Therapy as the most useful remedy.
The dangers of obsessive love
Since obsessive love is more of a delusion than actually falling in love with a real person, it can lead to dangerous results depending on how far the obsession grows. Obsessive love can lead to stalking, rape, murder, and other harmful things to the target of obsessive love or anyone the person believes is “in the way” of their delusion. In one case, John Hinckley’s obsession for actress Jodie Foster caused him to attempt an assassination on former President Ronald Reagan, because he believed it would grab her attention.
ALL THE ABOVE
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