An avenue for the mind

Amizade

Labels: personal

posted by shaikai @ 7:04 PM 0 comments

He loved him for who he was, and so ruined his life.

Labels: literature

posted by shaikai @ 7:10 PM 0 comments

Delusional, transient, finite, elusive. (Romantic) love. First you feel you need it, you desire it, you crave for it, you fight for it. You spend your time searching, socializing, thinking what to do, thinking you should not do anything for it (because "it will come suddenly one day, for sure"). Times passes by: days, weeks, months, even years. A lot happens, but not what you wanted, not what you craved for, not what you fought for.

That love, the object of your hope, might not ever come. You could keep waiting while you waste your life. If it comes, it might no be what you expected: the joy of a day, a week, or a month, of a short time. Until it reveals his dark side, leaving you alone, weeping beyond consolation.

If your love comes and it is stable, time goes on, turning ecstasy into routine. You both start to realize how common you are, he was not a price, he was a mere human being. A mere human being, defective, mad, unsatisfying. You have to get used to it. It takes almost your whole and gives less than that. Or even worse, paradise becomes hell, sometimes all of a sudden, like a nigthmare at noon: the sun in the sky, brighting intensely above the realm of suffering. Everything is ruined and you are left alone again, as you were before it all had started.

You can believe I am the worst of pessimists. But that is not my view. You can believe I have lost all hope in love. But that is not my view. You can think I arrived to these conclusions out of a hedious rage against life. But, trust me, that is far from being my view. I love life, may be more than anyone. And that is just why I arrived to these conclusions. I am one among the army of the hopeful, those who always feel the need of (romantic) love who never gets entirely satisfied. I do not deny it. But I can't ignore how I find all this delusional, transient, finite, elusive. All incomplete and doomed to failure. How could it be another way? How could we fix what is essentially ruin?

The sages say happiness and suffering are the same thing. Once you realize it, only endless joy can follow. And I sincerely think that is the only way out. How to learn to live in a world like this? That is the real question. There was a truth in saying that you should not fight to find love: what for? It is all the same. It might come, it might not come. But true love does not need to wait for a special person. Love finds its own way, even in doom, and sometimes especially in doom. True love finds in every sentient creature an opportunity to develop. And the special one? He might come, he might not come.

I can't stick fully to my own words. That is why I feel the need to spell them out. Somebody could listen and smile at me. And I will smile back.

Labels: personal

posted by shaikai @ 12:36 PM 0 comments