the eternal disappointment of life as it is;

Having begun to feel, people's desire to feel grew. They wanted to feel more, feel deeper, despite how much hit sometimes hurt. People became addicted to feeling. They're struggled to uncover new emotions. It's possible that this is how art was born. New kinds of joy were forged, along with new kinds of sadness: The eternal disappointment of life as it is; the relief of unexpected reprieve; the fear of dying.

Even now, all possible feelings do not yet exist. There are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination. From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written, or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom, or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges, and absorbs the impact.

x

So... I backspaced and retyped and deleted and retyped a lot. Managed to hit about four paragraphs and then I thought, what I think about love(yes your boring old boy meets girl love) was too personal over here. To sum it up: I used to think I was a hopeless romantic until something happened along the way and hardened something inside of me. If you were to ask me how I feel about it again, it will always be different. Nothing definitive. But it'll mostly be filled with silence. And maybe a shake of a head and a fidget. Or a shrug, or a pout. Each carrying its own weight in the silence. Or maybe you can put an emotion to an action. A shake of a head - lies. A shrug - a denial. A pout - loneliness. But can everything be comparative to something else? So I place my thoughts in silence. You can call it ignorance, you can call it naivety, you can call it lack of experience but I call it.. my idea that quietly brews in my head. 

That said, I remembered pieces of conversations I have had in the past years with friends of mine over coffee, in a quiet room, and yeah, over a good shit.. but mostly, places under the black sky plastered with tiny frail stars.

1. I never fully expressed how I feel. But the genuineness between the hems and haws, silences and difficulties to come up with something or anything is there, my friend.

2. It feels like I am an open book all the time and it seems easy to read me but..

3. I feel that nobody really knows how I really feel and what I really think. That you may think that I think in a certain way but... it's always changing. So...

4. It's hard to place a word or string words together to describe what I feel or how I think.. "When will you ever learn that you can't put a word to everything?"

5. I think this is what you call, "Going in circles"

6. What's my point? I don't know my point. But I guess the point is, I tried sharing something personal but it either turned out to be too much of a hassle or the fact that, it really was too personal.

7. And another point? Let's put the Heart out there.

x L