Who deems the difference between the mundane and the epic love, one liners?
Who categorizes? Decides, or even writes them? What makes them cliche? What doesn’t?
What moves the heart, and the soul towards that moment? Is it the music? The actors or actresses? Is it even perhaps the patriarchy, our society follows so absently these days?
This epic one liner, this moment that shivers, your tingle and tingles your shivery spine, is what I want to achieve.
I have three goals in life, that matter most to me:
First be happy, easiest sounding hardest to find.
Second write a book, a book for the people. A book worth writing about. A book people close there eyes to in that infinitesimal moment and whisper to themselves, shout, maybe even scream wow, that my friend is fucking epic well done, simple.
And third this idea of a one liner. Nay friends, not just a one liner, a one liner of love. An epic love, of lining, of love, of an entity that moves your soul and speaks to both your heart, and your head!
This idea isn’t something you shrug off as, “Ag man, how cliche!” No this is the real deal, the flying damsel on the board of the Titanic, the I cannot go on without you, Shakespeare’s Romeo moment. This my friends is the build up kind of love. The moment where the proverbial dam breaks and the liquid rain of freedom pours, nay gushes, from maiden’s eyes and leaks but a simple purity from the hardcore “man’s” single tear drop.
Do not misunderstand. This is not to further the idea of the vulnerable woman.
No this, this is real.
This is that raw emotion you get for the other, that perplexed bemusement you can’t lay down, when they surprise you, but in the best way possible.
This is that reality of grief, the Noah to the Rachel, in the Notebook. The raw experience of calling something for what it is, not hiding behind the guarded fence of how others will feel.
Simply put, “Stop being a bitch and I’ll stop being a dickhead. Cause that’s who we are. We are what the other needs, at the best and worst of times. We are harsh, and yet fearful, at the same time. We walk around carefully trying not to tread upon each others feelings, until the day we found out who the other person truly is. A fight is not a means of a break up, it is the means to which we test who we are, against who we believe the other to be.”
It is that idea, that soul burning idea, that calls to us. We sit back pulled by this moment, this story, and we think to ourselves, “Why do I feel this way when she looks at me? Why do I think about her in the recesses of my mind, where all that I feel is but the lonely wanderings of myself, haunted by her warmth, her smell, just simply her?
That my friends is what I want to build. The idea of an epic one liner. The build-up to that moment where they kiss, not because its meant to be, but because it simply changes who we are as people.
Helping us to accept the world a little more for what it is…