Tag Archives: together

Holnap és hónap kettő

Holnap és hónap kettő

So if you’re to look at words with the foreign eye you might be tempted to see some familiarity, even order. As a child learning to spell, the word together was always broken up into the sum of its parts, to-get-her, and though I never did find out if anyone ever did get her, or for that matter why she needed to be got, it helped me to remember. But in the world of foreign languages sometimes the familiar can have unforeseen, dare I say, deadly consequences. Now if you get to feeling a tad sheepish because you said you’re pregnant instead of embarrassed (the Spanish word embarazada means pregnant), it mightn’t amount to anything more than a knowing giggle, but perhaps you’re trying to flex your health food savvy in France and think that asking if the relevant food contains preservatives is a good idea, just remember that the French word Préservatif means something ever so slightly different.
As for together, I later learnt that the root is more to do with to gather, which makes perfect sense if you consider the full meaning of both words. That still doesn’t help me with spelling and therefore she will forever more be bound to the pursuit, inextricably linked to the getter in the equation.

Love is…

Love is…

Samuel Beckett: “If you do not love me I shall not be loved. If I do not love you I shall not love.”

 

In this conveys the sacrifice not of man to woman nor vice versa but of us, humanity, to the passions which oft times our rationality would refuse. For what is Love…and in this I do beseech you… patience, for truly there is no answer; but that here, right now, and in the understanding of words and the depth of emotion, some have tried to answer, tried to commend with thought that which rejects all reason…and yet it is our very reason which we would offer up as sacrifice to the greater wealth of Love…for yes, man, woman, humanity, could no longer relish its existence but that it would converge upon the greater plateau, as somehow we perceive it, and thereon it would allow us relinquishment, it would tease us to falter, doubt, then continue…this place defined not as the altar, nor as the tomb, but the essence of all things. What is Love if in truth it cannot be and not be, if it cannot live and unlive, if it cannot draw from you the listener a certain rush to stale sobriety, cynicism perhaps veiled. What is Love if it cannot defend itself against the very things which it purports to describe. For Love must be more than these and all words. Love must be a bore when it is bandied about in rhetoric. Love, by its own volition, negates itself but that it is felt to within an inch of its loss, for Love is all that we don’t have in a moment. Love is not regret! Love is not memory…these things already define themselves. Love is everything and cannot be rendered, divided, shared. Love is whole, complete, infinite. Love is!

 

©TheHairyTeacher2014

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