The other day, a few weeks ago, I was giving some thought to this RSA animate or lecture video I watched wherein the speaker challenged the idea of the profit motive and presented an alternative: the purpose motive. THe purpose motive mostly describes a human beings ability to work for the notion of satiating a purpose, rather than acquiring money. Apropos: money has no real relevance other than in a system where money is integral to the sustenance of life. Currency of any sort essentially is nothing more than a medium between man/woman and the object of their desire: food, housing, transportation, etc. So without money, is an individual to be pressured into making money to fulfill their desires? Or can they live perfectly well with company and food and love? I believe its the latter. For the very desolate are often without purpose and thus do not believe living life is worth the effort each day produces. More than an affirmation of my socialist proclivities, this means human beings must need a purpose to find solace in suffering; we need to know there is a reason to have a shitty (or great) job so that we don’t go home and become so overwhelmed with depression we eventually give up. I believe love is that purpose. In all its glory, it is multifaceted enough to never refuse applicability.

So of course I believe in true love. Without it, the notion of living becomes the movement of ones, the singular momentum of randomly generated masses, the ebb and flow of whim. I loathe few things more than a genuine, voluntary abstraction from prudence. I’ve told at least one person how I believe that if we all resorted to answering all the nagging questions within, we’d find the same answers - or most of the same answers. And I believe love would be the most common answer. Not some immature, petulant love that sets about achieving a new face and soul each day, but a lasting love that recognizes the fragility of an object and its unique beauty. I think I could go on much further, but I shall not. And speaking of being able to write for eons without end, I’ll end with a quote from Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground: “….with love, one can live even without happiness.”