A poetic work by the Roman poet Catullus for his mistress Lesbia (Me kids thee not), but draw comfort in that it was a pseudonym (Lesbia, if conveying connotations, don’t know????).
Yes, there is a person believed to be this Lesbia’s true identity (Clodia, some personage’s wife, and another’s sister) but that is not the focus of this post.
Odi et amo
I love and hate.
ellipses (in title, atop this post) for the absence of words before the word excrucior.
Missing words, below;
Why do I do this, perhaps you ask?
I don’t know, but I feel it happening and I’m tortured (excrucior).
A duality, Latin, odi et amo. I love and I hate.
God is forever attempting to get our attention, how, you might say? Through our dualities displayed. Our ambivalence. Our vacillations. Contradicting behaviors.
Excrucior. Torture, or it hurts, but in an excruciating way. Torturous.
In the case of Catullus, this woman belonged to another. Yet she and Catullus had a fling. An assignation, affair. In a relationship such as this, one’s ego is certainly not fed (referring to catullus). She goes home to be with another. Pity the fool who resorts to poetry in a situation like this.
Words of love warm and tender won’t win a girl’s heart anymore (Mamas and the Papas). If you love her then you must send her somewhere where she’s never been before.
Darling you (ooo ooo ooo) send me, and I know you (ooo ooo ooo) thrill me. Honest you do, honest you do, wo ooo ooh ooh oh… and I know oh you….
How do we interpret this thing; Love
This thing we bandy about, parlay as love.
Certainly vexing. But yes, it is true, we mount parameters, rules of thumb which are supposed to keep us away from getting attached to a vexing propositional relationship. Wear the ring of garlic, strung about our necks, warding off the more pronounced defectives, which, according to our assessments (newly revised, and assigned), will act as medicinals, curatives, prescriptions, even charms, to spare us at last from all the turmoil experienced in times past.
And we get value. Yes we obtain value when we advertise; “I am so thankful for my mate. Finally found the right man/woman…”.
We are reinforcing our commitment, in such open encompassing statements. Often, however, merely dualistically, warding away doubts, uncannily, yet reasserting them, giving the doubts substance, putting a stamp to the lurking dark shadows in the boggy background recesses of the mind.
We are no good.
We are a flawed Creation
Ambivalent, full of so much self contradiction, the very same feature we spent years criticizing our parents for.
Our Lovely unrelenting Heavenly Father in his mercy and Perfect true Love did so fashion us so that we would be haunted by our imperfection, and that, for our own well being.
It was not enough that we failed him in Adam. But in our decrepitude, the conscience doth ensure that we rest not completely within the confines of our affliction. How awesome is that????
We require His Life returned unto us.
For we are no good. Yet we build up the Circus Tent, prop up the canvas and sell tickets. Here ye, here ye, step right up to view for your personal enjoyment, the Greatest show on Earth.
The travesty, the wonder, the revelation. Purchase your tickets here with your commitments, backing this travesty, while you anchor your soul to this illusion, the illusion that we are good, and do not require the Seal of God, His intervention, His representation on our behalf.
And Fear of the Truth, it is which witnesses the Clown shake his fist in futility at God.
The Cross of the Son of God’s demonstration of Love, whereupon He satisfied the debt of a life we owed the Almighty doth forever bear witness twofold; Our need and His Provision of Love.
Thank you for your visit.
I can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org or on face book as Miguel Angel Oquendo (of Huachuca City, Az)