It may be a litle to early to for Valentine's day. but I just want to think about, well, love. Such a basic and powerful emotion of the human mind, this love. Love which shakes walls down to their cornerstones.
We have all tried and tested the thought and existence of love, no doubt, with varying results. We have all tried to fill that strange ache we have in our chests, to cope with the solitude that is thrust unto us all. Many antidotes and anecdotes have been used, Religion, Science, Work, but have any of them really made you feel whole? I mean truly, did they make you complete, make you feel lke you were something to behold? Surely it will be argued, but you know, oh you know that nothing else matters until you fill that deep void, that deep longing within you.
Love has been described as many things. As a burning ember within the soul, as a embrace of fuzzy feeling, even as described as panes of glass. But embers can die and feelings can cease and glass is fragile, but love is like the purest of matter, the truest of unbreakable bondage, which can never be severed or broken. Do you ever stop loving someone? Do you ever truly loathe the person whom you once shared intimacies with? No, life does not work in such a manner that can allow this. It is almost inhuman to truly do so, resulting in the loss of your soul, for turning all hate and letting thr deep darkness flood you wil destroy the very fathoms of your soul. Yet, maybe that's what you want?
Love is a destroyer and a creator. Well, self-explanatory, without being explicit. We all know that love has properties which truly can make ones life whole, ones life comeplete, but there is also the menacing falacies of love. Love, when buried hatchet deep into a tree trunk, seems to turn on you, seems to become your enemy. You hate the one(s) you love and isolate yourself, from where you can become something you never wanted to be in the first place alone. Such things will happen and you could survive, you could continue, but what if you can't, you will bear that open wound all your life, letting more lifeblood fall everytime it is touched upon. Yes, it will happen as such. Love is forever, but so are the deep scars it leaves.
I find myself glad, almost, that i stare up at my ceiling every night at 1 AM, thinking, "Why? Why am I the one alone? Why is there no one?" Truth is, I'm content with not being with anyone, I may be bitter for my age, I may be an extremely blunt unfunny asss who shoves his foot so far down his throat that it tickles my kideys, but hell, I'm not the one who is stuck in the rut.
I've met so many people, so many who wish they could have just not done it, but you know, I hate that. When I truly feel that I should not and believe that I cannot have such feeling, my friends are forsaking what chances they should take. My friends are taking the fact that they have true chances, that they can be more than just the person next to them, they can be the person with them, the person close to them.
And when my friends stop taking in the damned puppy love of children, of people my age, maybe they can realise that life has so few chances, life has so few times that you can make real differences. I'm going to help them as much as I truly can, counseling them to my best abilities, but I can't change them, they must be changed, maybe they might see it like me, maybe not. Life goes on.
You know, though this is already so drawn out, I read a quote a while back by a famous man whose name was Boethius. He said, "A man content to go to heaven alone will never go to heaven." I agree 100% for you can't be alone, you can't, but allow me a fantasy, that some people, some very few, don't need someone.
This is Matthias, signing off.
Matthias feels 30, but is only half of that.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Posted by Matthias at 9:58 PM