A Journey

When you believe me static, do not tremble to admit that you are, in your entirety, absolutely and resolutely in the wrong.  I, in fact, march about with the beat of your tender heart, lifting one foot after the other, traversing your sweet, gentle skin to and fro until I, fatigued with greater pleasure, wreak havoc within the tumult of your hair.  I sink into you, past the point of return, and I weep with pleasure at having known you this profoundly. 

My journey does not end here but goes on, into the unknown world of your internal crevasse.  The passage leads downwards, where I fumble through your flesh.  I search for a meaning, for a kind of magnetism not found in this reality, found within the human soul, in fact. I have travelled long and hard through the wilderness of bitter hearts to find what you so desperately conceal within your monstrous hide. It lurks, in fact, in the deep realms of your humanity.

Whence I do find it, I crawl out with my prize in hand, and wander at last towards you.  I regard you in the highest degree, for I have seen what dark and light capacitates your being.  I have discovered that which you dream, that which you fear, and that which you will become.  What I see is beauty, an exquisiteness most divine that lurks not in the façade of an individual but in their midst. I have travelled upon you, through miles of horror and heaven combined and I have found only you.  I am an adventurer, you see, and, upon my last, I came to a region not unlike others, except for one peculiarity.  I read upon you the words that spoke most truly, “Not all who wander are lost.”  I am no longer lost.

LOOOOOOVE

       People associate love with feelings all the time. But they are mistaken. Feelings DO have to do with love, but they do NOT define it. Feelings are just like flowers in a tree: they’re beautiful, and they adorn the tree, but they’re ephemeral…eventually, they wither and die, falling to the ground. Love, thus, cannot be a feeling, for then it would be ephemeral as well, when it’s really supposed to last forever. As a result, we must turn our attention to the tree itself, to its trunk: what stays strong

and continues to grow. What is it that makes love as solid as a tree? How can the tree remain a tree in spite of its flowers? It’s because love is a decision. You decide to be there for the person, be it your soul mate, your family or your friends, even when your feelings betray you; and you stick to that decision, and persevere. It’s the INTENTION that counts. The feelings will come and go, just like the flowers, and when they come, they help make the beauty of love more palpable, that beauty of your heroic efforts to stick to your decision. Just don’t you forget to not depend on them for stability, since they’re unreliable. And don’t you forget that love is also all about thinking of the OTHER person, not of yourself.