Boys are funny.
Girls be so serious.Saith I, in the silence of my room. Woah, I am practically a philosopher, like Osisiye here.
Bob and Weave.
The little phrase 'bob and weave' wouldn't leave me, so I thought about what it means, it reminded me of boxing, which my father used to watch back in the eighties, and I pictured a skilled boxer bobbing and ducking then throwing punches alternately, the rhythm and the beauty of it, like dancing.
|She's hot, Bob.|
And Bob is a name. In America, not in Nigeria.
A month ago, I was pondering essential properties of love, and beginning yet another amazing online course The Fiction Of Relationship, and near the middle of A Brief History of Humankind, and deciding that love had to mean one thing, because what a silly idea that this love thing must remain so irreducible, mean different things to different people, etc.
I re-emphasize the efficient sparseness of the definition I came up with up there, and I suggest that if you analyze it and test it, you would find that it is a definitive definition of this stubborn, previously nebulous concept called love. Or not?
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