I find the dual nature of light baffling but possible. I find the duality of human nature confusing but artistic. But most of all, I find the dual nature of human love blinding.
I am not saying I have experienced or met true love, for I deny its existence but whatever I feel at times of unique euphoria I label it, stereotypically, love.
But here’s the major conundrum: how can human love be pathetic and beautiful at the same time?
Some may think love is the most beautiful and discredit its pathetic aspect while others, if any, will degrade it to a form of weakness, as I personally do. I will attempt explaining my thoughts although I do not fully understand myself when it comes to anything, especially emotions.
Why would anyone enslave themselves? Yes, I think love is slavery. Living under the mercy of another because of a feeling, even if reciprocated, is humiliating. Loving another is naive because humans will always care for themselves more than any other being. Marriage is a puzzle. The pieces may match but they are distinct separate pieces after all. They will always care about what they are. I find it hard to believe that true love exists because it is within human nature to love oneself and therefore impossible to completely love another as it means to sacrifice one’s love from oneself. You may wonder: love doesn’t necessarily have to be absolute, one may love oneself and another. But as I am an idealist, I believe in the absolute and perceive all other things pathetic and derogatory. I either give everything or nothing. Giving everything is utter humiliation and slavery for no one deserves such commitment. Giving nothing is not true love. Therefore, I believe love is pathetic as we voluntarily choose to enslave ourselves. But the true problem arises when I realize that I can’t control my heart. Just like I am created with a black hole of an ego absorbing all attention, I am also a star craving to give others light. I am doomed. I crave love because I am created of it, by it. I will involuntarily find myself falling and loving and caring and giving. A strong muscle pumping blood, a weak beat falling for others; a dilemma. Whenever I experience this feeling of falling, I despise myself. I despise my heart for doing that to me. I despise my weakness and eventually nurture my ego to overcome this pathetic state. I do not always recover from the trance of falling but I know my ego still exists; I still am. I fight.
On the opposite end of this spectrum of passion, love is a beautiful idea. The notion of appreciating another being is overwhelming as we fall in grace. When I experience this sensation of falling, I find myself emanating with generosity; I become willing to make them the most they can be. At times, my ego wanders away and leaves love alone and it’s euphoric. I may start crying. I may start imagining. I may start dreaming. It is a beautiful feeling. But I stop. A beautiful feeling and that is it. I do not engage myself in fantasies of everlasting happiness and true love. I do not believe it is possible. Therefore, I cherish the feeling of falling for as long as my ego is sleeping but it is soon awake, I make sure it wakes up. Nevertheless, I wonder if waking my ego up causes more destruction than salvation. I wonder if love is an essential part of life. I wonder if I am fighting the wrong person. I wonder if I am on a defeatist mission.
At moments, I admit it. I admit that I will fall in love and will fall freely and my ego will be in a deep coma blinded by such love. I admit that it is inevitable to fall.
At other moments, I stand up. I punch myself in the mind and wake me up. I must fight on.
Between moments of wonder and moments of doubt, I am in constant battle. I only hope I do not enslave myself. I only hope I fight the real enemy. I only hope.