I love writing. Why? I've got no idea.
When the Romans used Cupid to symbolize love, they wanted to convey a message. The wanted to tell us that this is what Love is, a child throwing his arrows recklessly on hearts, without ever stopping to ask himself "Why" or "When" or "How". It's beyond reason.
When you love something for particular reasons, you are connecting two pieces of cloth with strings. The strings are cut one after another by the effect of time. The bond is weakening. The bond no longer exists. But when you love something for no reason at all, the two pieces are overlapped. They are one piece. And can you ever separate something from its own self?
I am writing and writing is me