But As Far As Being Popular, Yeah,

Love Is About Bottomless Empathy, Born Out Of The Heart’s Revelation That Another Person Is Every Bit As Real As You Are. And This Is Why Love, As I Understand It, Is Always Specific. Trying To Love All Of Humanity May Be A Worthy Endeavor, But, In A Funny Way, It Keeps The Focus On The Self, On The Self’s Own Moral Or Spiritual Well-being. Whereas, To Love A Specific Person, And To Identify With His Or Her Struggles And Joys As If They Were Your Own, You Have To Surrender Some Of Your Self.

But She Was Seventeen Now And Not Actually Dumb. She Knew That You Could Love Somebody More Than Anything And Still Not Love The Person All That Much, If You Were Busy With Other Things.

It Offended His Sense Of Himself, Because He Was An Individual From An Age Of Individuals, And A String Of Lights Was, Like Him, An Individual Thing. No Matter How Little The Thing Had Cost, To Throw It Away Was To Deny Its Value.

The Problem With Making A Virtual World Of Oneself Is Akin To The Problem With Projecting Ourselves Onto A Cyberworld: There’s No End Of Virtual Spaces In Which To Seek Stimulation, But Their Very Endlessness, The Perpetual Stimulation Without Satisfaction, Becomes Imprisoning.

Use Well Thy Freedom.