We are all animals
We are all animals.
A few of us sentient for a moment or two before dropping back on to all fours. Sniffing the floor or each other’s behinds. Our lofty intentions and thoughts, down in the animal gutter that we perpetually live in.
The old adage “Youth is wasted on the young” has some truth to it. You do not know where you are going or what you are going to do in your twenties much less your thirties. Only when you reach the fifties and sixties, when the end is no longer somewhere far beyond the horizon do you begin to see. Even then, it’s only if you spent your life in contemplative thought. Realizing how broken and damaged you are, with no hope of repair, you slowly build an inner world. Of ideas and thoughts. Where emotion no longer rules. Your base desires remain, but no longer truly have such a tight hold over you.
When you look at your mate, wife, husband, significant other and see a broken damaged person that you’ve shared this time with. Someone you’ve chosen to love, not for their body, mind, or what they bring to you, but because of them. In all their flaws, and shortcomings. In all the ways they’ve both succeeded and failed. You chose to love them.
Philia.
You look at them, and they, you. But deep inside of you, there is still this slight persistence of knowing. That we are all going through the…
