What is Love?

A lot of  my posts are somehow about love. I guess it's got to do more with my age and I can't really help it. This post is more of a diary entry than a piece of actual literary writing. Its I think the most simple post I've written. I recently had the fortune of meeting this person and we discuss almost every topic under the sun. I'm really thankful to this person because it takes that one person to make things so clear and in perspective. I hope my anonymous inspiration reads this. 

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Love is possibly the biggest cause of misery in a person. That is a fact.

Drunkenness is its own kind of misery, true. But one may drink to drown the memories one’s unrequited love. Nobody asks if a drug fiend injects copious amounts of poison into his veins for he never got the love he thought he deserved. Nobody ever thought about the man who gave it all away because nothing else mattered as he thought he had it all for a moment.

I’m naïve. I really am. So I don’t know what really drives the pursuit towards love. Why we wish to seek its warmth where each of us thinks it belongs. How it belongs. How it makes us feel.

I tried looking for the answer in Science. Darwin told us we evolved from apes. Price told us altruism was an evolutionary instinct. Nobody told us what love is.

I turned to religion for answers but I got confused further. For it confused me why God would want love to exist in a fog of misery. Then Friedrich Nietzsche told me God is dead.

Maybe the answer is too simple but comes with only with a hard core pursuit towards love. Cause, while many scholars never find why it exists, a tiny voice inside your head still goes ‘It’s just love, silly’. It tells you love’s nothing to be afraid of. It tells you it feels so good and it does. Why can’t you be sure though?

I wish I knew the answers. But I don’t.  And quite frankly I don’t want to. I’d rather not. Geniuses over-think. I'm barely one. And as simple as I want to keep it I hope I’d feel it better. I know I’d feel it better.

We have all these complex terms and ideas of how love should be. How it should have all these unnecessary rules. How it should never be so simple. Why can’t it be so simple? Why can’t it be just a simple beautiful thing between two people?

I don’t have the answers to all those questions. I never will. But I know I always will have love to look forward to. To pursue in the depth of my heart. To ponder over.

But I know one thing for sure. Love isn't misery. It might not even be the cause of misery. It’s just love, silly. 

Death/Love

Sometimes I wear a cloak of satin and velvet

Sometimes I maybe naked, with a bow and arrow

But sometimes I wear a cloak darker than the night

I am known to this little child, yet I am to him the biggest mystery

To this old man here, I have brought pain and joy throughout his history

I am celebrated; as celebrated as anything could be

And yet at nights I cry, I weep

For as celebrated as I may be, I get blamed

I get blamed for when two young souls see trust in each other’s eyes

When the clouds get dark and one of them dies

For all the times when there’s betrayal 

It’s me who gets soaked in their tears, when they cry

It’s me who takes the blame, it is I

And so I weep

For I'm feared

Feared more than war is

Forbidden, I'm a young man’s worst nightmares

And a maiden’s curse

One healing hand and other full of daggers

I cut infinite names of my victims on stone walls of sorrow

While the other hand paints beautiful faces I borrow

 For as long as there is the wind, for as long runs time

I run through; crazed; silent, as speechless as a mime

Touching thousands I come across, more subjects to my crime

Running, sweating, shouting and screaming

The horrific sights of smiling faces; gleaming

Black birds follow, and I know what horrors for their future they’re scheming

I'm out of breath for everything’s real, I'm not dreaming

But then I stop

Time is up

And I stop

I can’t go on

Maybe I should just stop, end this

I can’t take it any more; and I know a thousand more that can’t

A thousand more victims that rage and rant

But I wish I could stop, But I can’t

For as long as there is the wind, for as long runs time

Because I know that someone right now is walking out the door and across the street

Because I know that someone is unaware of what fate on the next turn one might meet

And so I’ll move

I’ll keep on moving

Sometimes I wear a cloak of satin and velvet

Sometimes I maybe naked, with a bow and arrow

But tonight goes to all those who despise me; 

Tonight I wear a cloak of white

Broken but not defeated

                                    Broken but not defeated

Sometimes I feel suffocated,the feeling of being underwater with nowhere to go. Drifting away from the land slowly and painfully. I know with every passing moment the chances of my survival are reduced. I scream and shout for help, I reach out my hand in hope that someone will save me. Someone will come for me, someone will remember that I am lost. I have been wrong, it seems every decision that I have made took me further away from you. My actions may seem wrong but my intensions were always good. I am isolated, drowning slowly. I can feel my heart beating fast and my hands going numb. In my last moments, I can just think of you. How your smile made me think that everything is alright. 

Somethings are not taught to you, you learn them along the way. You make mistakes, you fall, you rise, you learn, you forget, you love, you hate, you write your own story and choose your own destiny. Life without a manual is the only life i know.

The Unappreciated

                                                   Tears of a Clown

                                                                  Sitting on the stairs,

                                                         was a man with a painted smile,

                                                              Everybody laughed at him.

                                                               He had tears in his eyes.

                                                           If you could see in his eyes,

                                                         you could see the pain inside,

                                                         Underneath that painted smile,

                                                    There was a man living an empty life.

                                                             People laughed at his pain

                                                            and when he was ashamed,

                                                                       At his last fall,

                                                         There was no one he could call.

                                                              He danced and jumped

                                                           to entertain the whole town,

                                                               But no one cared about 

                                                                The tears of the clown

                                                                Sitting on the stairs,

                                                        was a man with a painted smile,

                                                            Everybody laughed at him.

                                                             He had tears in his eyes.