Mysterious Ways


Those lyrics can’t honestly get out of my head. And along with the other words of that lovely song. I promised myself I wouldn’t like that song because everyone else was singing it at the top of their lungs. But no. The song had to sink itself into the ‘oh-shit-I-love-this-song’ part of my brain. Now I can’t get it out.

Yes, people really do, now don’t they? I mean, look around you.


Love. What a great word. Maybe even a greater feeling. Or a better action. For me, it’s fictional. Why? Because it’s perfect. It’s exclusively surreal. Love doesn’t just happen. It’s a miracle. For different people raised by different families to be friends, that’s cool. But for those people to fall it love, that’s just, wow. There is a connection, a wounderous bond. Not just a connection for thereness, it is a connection to be more than just there. To reach out. To show an affectionate response to another person, in actions and in words. I guess every reality has its own fiction.
Aside from being fictional, it is outstanding. It is beautiful. Love is just itself. It is special. It could bring hearts closer to one another. It could create problems, yes, but it could also mend those problems. The feeling itself is wonderful. It would be lovely to know someone is out there wanting to spend time with you with all there hearts. And to wrap there arms around you, so you fell safe, protected. That is a simple, yet extraordinary miracle.


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