It really is awesome the power a woman can have on a man. I've said before that true love is the devil, and the devil is the human heart. When a woman captures your gaze, and the fever takes hold, everything else in the world - in its entirety - can't lift the captivation. The spell, charm, trance, attraction. Food loses its taste. Fascinations with the world fade. World affairs seem nothing. World War could break out, and it wouldn't cure the sickness. Woman is a spectacular creature.
I feel my own life has been an ebb and flow of love sickness. I'd like to write these posts completely openly, like some failed Casanova. Pouring out all the awkward moments and delusions. The meaningful looks and glances. Like some font of catharsis and record. But it's all too personal. Naturally it intrudes on other people and their lives too.
It's painful how meekness and goodness can be loathed by a woman's eyes. Their disappointment in your weakness. The soul's battle between pleasing a woman and being a good Christian. The pull of the woman versus the pull of the world.
It's inspirational, for sure. The artist, wallowing in obsession, aching to match or echo the beauty that plagues him. The push - the hard kick to the stomach - to be strong and good. To become a Man. To become a King. Embodying both greatness and goodness. TO BECOME WORTHY.
The princess, anointing you, as you make your lonely way to slay the dragon. The desert girl, whose gentle eyes, like water, sustain you on your long journey. The moody blonde, demanding victory with her swan-like beauty.
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