Hit by concrete

There’s an acute point of crossing where words transition from a distant “nice to hear” string of ideas, thoughts or sentiments (or fluffy feel goods) to an actual demand. Hit by concrete.

It’s the distinction between indifference and conviction.

Words take on a life of their own and transform anew. Bringing forth what they were sent to achieve.

The one thing that matters after the rinds of life are stripped away: LOVE.

Love in all it’s forms: romantic (eros), affectionate (philia), self-less, universal (agape), familial (storge), self-love (philautia), etc.

Love convicts and then demands.

If not, it’s not it. It’s a dis-ordered version of fluff. And in the end, it deflates us. Leaving us for want.
Insatiated.