Thursday, August 27, 2009
about love and everything else
i think about a lot of things.
the reality of dreams, the beauty of friendship, the inevitability of trust and other things alike. however, only one thing often stand out, perhaps because it is the only one which i still cannot fathom, the existence of true love.
true love exists, even if it takes a while to fathom. someday, i would find that person, who would love me no matter what, and we would live happily ever after.
that is classic. the oldest story in the book, and in fact the one that is most untrue, the most fiction of fairytales, for true love do not exist, at least not in this world.
what can define love as to being true?
love is patient, love is kind. it does not envy, it does not boast. it is not rude, it is not self seeking.
love is perfect, but it is often hard to love someone perfectly, and it is even harder to truly understand what love really means.
love, like so many other things, remains just another semantics issue. the things you see in love are ones which i cannot fathom, nor even think of thinking about. love is too broad, too wide, too beautiful, too ugly. there are elements of dichotomy within love itself, if not, contrasting meanings.
some people take their whole lives to find out what true love is, but then again, what is true? in which truth do people based their opinions about love to but themeselves? and is the truth in which we trust, right?
sometimes the people we choose to trust ends up hurting us. sometimes what we once thought was true love, ends up breaking us. we end up not believing in the existence of love, and live cold, bitter lives, when really love does exist. maybe true love doesn't but love really does.
there is never a definition for true love, for it does not exist, and even if it does, is perhaps too much for us to understand. it remains a mystery, like the place we call heaven, if not, God himself. we believe that he is there, but we cannot see. however, sometimes, the element of believing is really, just the only thing you need.
true love does not exist within a person, nor does it exist in the form of a person. true love happens when you learn to fall in love with someone, who this time, ends up staying, catching you and keeping you at arms reach, when you fall.
some people seek for true love in the wrong places, if not, the wrong people.
seeking in the wrong direction brings you nowhere, and seeking for whatever did not exist in the first place, is parallel to looking for complete and utter nothingness, the non existent will always remain nothing, no matter how hard you try to make it. the world does not listen to what you want it to become, the world does not care about what you want to make it, because whatever it makes, that is what you get.
i think about a lot of things.
the movement of time. the closeness of families. the wonderful smell of rain. the secrets within writings.
sometimes i would never get the answers, if not, a truth to the thoughts i am thinking, however take it day by day, the understanding of love, and meaning itself. and that makes all the difference.
i think about a lot of things.
the reality of dreams, the beauty of friendship, the inevitability of trust and other things alike. however, only one thing often stand out, perhaps because it is the only one which i still cannot fathom, the existence of true love.
true love exists, even if it takes a while to fathom. someday, i would find that person, who would love me no matter what, and we would live happily ever after.
that is classic. the oldest story in the book, and in fact the one that is most untrue, the most fiction of fairytales, for true love do not exist, at least not in this world.
what can define love as to being true?
love is patient, love is kind. it does not envy, it does not boast. it is not rude, it is not self seeking.
love is perfect, but it is often hard to love someone perfectly, and it is even harder to truly understand what love really means.
love, like so many other things, remains just another semantics issue. the things you see in love are ones which i cannot fathom, nor even think of thinking about. love is too broad, too wide, too beautiful, too ugly. there are elements of dichotomy within love itself, if not, contrasting meanings.
some people take their whole lives to find out what true love is, but then again, what is true? in which truth do people based their opinions about love to but themeselves? and is the truth in which we trust, right?
sometimes the people we choose to trust ends up hurting us. sometimes what we once thought was true love, ends up breaking us. we end up not believing in the existence of love, and live cold, bitter lives, when really love does exist. maybe true love doesn't but love really does.
there is never a definition for true love, for it does not exist, and even if it does, is perhaps too much for us to understand. it remains a mystery, like the place we call heaven, if not, God himself. we believe that he is there, but we cannot see. however, sometimes, the element of believing is really, just the only thing you need.
true love does not exist within a person, nor does it exist in the form of a person. true love happens when you learn to fall in love with someone, who this time, ends up staying, catching you and keeping you at arms reach, when you fall.
some people seek for true love in the wrong places, if not, the wrong people.
seeking in the wrong direction brings you nowhere, and seeking for whatever did not exist in the first place, is parallel to looking for complete and utter nothingness, the non existent will always remain nothing, no matter how hard you try to make it. the world does not listen to what you want it to become, the world does not care about what you want to make it, because whatever it makes, that is what you get.
i think about a lot of things.
the movement of time. the closeness of families. the wonderful smell of rain. the secrets within writings.
sometimes i would never get the answers, if not, a truth to the thoughts i am thinking, however take it day by day, the understanding of love, and meaning itself. and that makes all the difference.
i love you most ardently, 4:06 PM.
