more on love

st. Augustine says something like, Amo: volo ut sis (I love you: I want you to be). I like this, it is more generous than Sappho's conception of love as so entwined with desire, making an object of the beloved, disinterested in the beloved's will except as it affects his or her gain or loss. but then, both conceptions, augustine and sappho's, assume that there is no mingling, and I think of good love as something like volo ut sis with mingling.

nightlife

lately my dreams have been full of metals, like the monster with the metal face who I had to fight with a pitchfork (to kill him, I had to stab him in the heart, but he blocked all of my attempts, and I ended up stabbing him in the neck, which made him laugh at me with evil metal laugh while I tried to pry his head off), and then last night the cityscape that had me walking along a narrow metal bridge with a bruised rubber ducky in my hand. these are unsettling dreams, dreams where I'm lost or confused or disappointed or disappointing. and though my waking life seems contented enough I wonder at my deeper mind, which is clearly less satisfied.

and speaking of satisfied, or not-satisfied, I haven't had hot water in five days. five days! in january! that's just wrong.