Isn't this the most succinct sentence to wrap up what love is?

I have no control when I fall in love. I can't choose love, it chooses me. It is unavoidable fate. There is something irrational involved. And usually it is not even the "fault" of the person to which the love is directed. This person can almost do what she wants it won't change my feelings towards her. I am at her mercy and I enjoy it. Everything she does has a meaning which only I can see. I don't think it is correct to say that my love is blind. Quite the opposite is true: love is like a mind-expanding drug. Every gesture, every look and every small word confirms my love. It is like being awakened from the dead. I notice so many details I haven't paid attention to before. When I am with her everything around is so much more intense: the colours and perfumes of the flowers, the cool breeze, the clear sky full of stars, the music playing in the background at her place. Everything is magic and who could resist magic...

Love is a present I can't refuse. But usually it doesn't last long. Can't help falling out of love is as frequent as the opposite.

Josh triggered this with his post from Sunday.

The next entry will be on music, I promise.

Staying away from the internet for a week and getting back into it is weird. When rereading the blogs and internet sites I usually "flick through" (or maybe more accurate "scroll") I found out that I didn't miss much in that week. It is almost hard to get back into the habit of flying through almost a hundred sites per day. My internet addiction doesn't seem to be too serious yet.

On the other hand this reminds me a lot of another of my addictions. When I stop smoking for a week in hindsight I never have the feeling I missed anything. And when I slip then the first cigarettes are always terrible. I need to smoke at least twenty to find them tasty again. And after another 2,000 they are disgusting again and I have to stop again. Those bloody vicious circles.

An old daily philosophical quotation I kept in my inbox as it somehow got stuck in my craw:

This reasoning seems so plain wrong to me. Death is the most trivial event in life. Next to the beginning of life after the most banal and animalistic pastime which is sex. And the door to death is open all life long. We can die at any time. There is nothing mysterious about physical death. Thinking about what comes after is what gives death its special aura. And of course we do not achieve death at all. Death comes to us. Like life actually. Or did you achieve life?

Behind those sentences there seems to hide a calvinistic work ethic: you should earn your death! And then as a bonus death is a relief for you. What a bizarre way of thinking.

On the contrary I would argue that after this often painful life we merit a painless death. What's the point in suffering just to die and disappear or whatever happens after? If medicine was only capable to reduce the pain of those dying of horrible diseases and wounds medicine already would be worth it.