Friday, June 10, 2011

flying in love

"I wasn't 'falling in love', because i never felt any weight, I was 'flying in love' for the first time in my life."
 (Arizona Dream, 1993)

flying in love beats falling in love, because it's dynamic. falling in love is static, you fall and stay there, in a love hole miles underground, you don't know anyone else anymore, you don't see anyone else anymore, you don't even want to, the whole world comes down to you and the object (and some girls might object to the term) of your affection. an emotional reclusion that doesn't work in spite of you thinking it's the best thing that could ever happen. you've been there, and if you haven't, you're lucky.

when you're flying in love it's a whole different story. you're floating above and around, you keep on moving and you love everything, absolutely everything, the blue sky above (when you're floating on your back), the tall people you can see clearly, the short people you can't really see, the rain in spain, champagne from maine, a dane called jane, a train in vain, etc, and you are so happy you can't believe it, you can't believe little tormented you can be so happy about it all, all that you see and all that you do, and then you hit a big tree because you were so happy you weren't paying attention, so hitting the tree makes you fall (in love) and it's all over, i mean, it's (happening) all over again, you fall, then the hole, then the absolutes regarding your object of affection, then the reclusion, then the end, then the quiet period, and then, if you're lucky, soon enough you'll be flying in love again, hopefully wearing some winged sandals this time or at least a helmet.

truth is, when you fly in love, you're really in love with yourself and with how you fit in so well with what's around you that it makes 'clac!'.



Béranger said...

Une minorité à la ligne révolutionnaire correcte n'est plus une minorité. Tot din La Chinoise.

prestidigitator said...

Bien dit. Mais les images sont de Masculin-Feminin.

Béranger said...

Aoleu, deci Jean-Pierre Léaud era încă şi mai tânăr! (Cu un an.) Mea culpa.