Unreasonable love

Love is not reasonable.
It doesn't follow any set of logic.
There are no timetables, no equations to fix it to any dimension.
It sits bleeding between duty and passion
between memory and hope
between loathing and longing
between clinging and surrender
between ego and spirit...
It is the binding
behind beauty and compassion
behind holding or letting go
behind solitude or belonging,
behind singing and celebration
behind sorrow and sweat.
Love is the pause between breaths
invisible fabric, a force beyond death
propulsion of the oversoul
sweeter than a doughnut hole...
it may have some rhyme,
but never ...never ever  has a reason.
love defies all explanation, all definition
love is not reasonable.

Sane, sober and single.

Are bachelorette pads supposed to be all full of white lace and iced pink gingham? Or are you supposed to go all cougar-ish with leopard print bedspreads and black vinyl throw cushions?
I'm not sure. I am still trying to get used to decorating a place without a partner involved. It seems I have spent half of my life doing "compromise" interior design; so much energy trying to work around bloody big stereo speakers and giant tv screens...football posters, cheesy girlie shots, or beer ads, and there's no way of feminising a porch wall full of proudly displayed hand saws (looked like a wall of death)....now it's all down to you, your bucket of paint and your divorced household leftovers to create a new environment. You begin to realize that everything around you is a little statement about you. I have my family photos. I have food in my cupboard. I have my paintings and sketches on my walls.

I have a single bed.