And so it came to pass that I fell into the ambivalent well. Trouble is, I can’t tell if I’m drowning or being reborn.

Why did I wander past a bookshelf and feel the need to caress this little book, On Ambivalence, by Kenneth Weisbrode. Was it the black satin cover, the photo of an old train crossing a Peruvian mesa, or the MIT imprint? Heady stuff, eh? I suppose its beauty is an apology for putting the reader through the wringer of ambivalence.

From page 28:

“Desire and desirability, once again, are the basis of ambivalence, just as the appearance and reality of desire, the object and the idea of the object, beat almost indistinguishably in the human heart.”

I am in love. Or is it lust? I’ll let you know when I finally crawl out of the well.