Farce

There's something about the way you look at the things you love. Eyes, they say, are a doorway to your soul. A reflection of you, the truth in you. When you look at something you love, science says your pupil dilates. But is it just that? Just a biological phenomenon that marks something so complex, so pure as love? If you ask me, love is more than just an emotion. It's the smile that forms on your face, with the mere mention of the object of your affection. It is the thoughts that you can not share, the pictures you can not paint. And yet, it is just an imbalance in hormones in your brain that mark love. Ironic, isn't it? What if I say, that I believe that simplicity is the complex of it all? For maybe, just maybe, you think love is about the man you love, his scent, the way he looks at, or even the way he sounds. But, all of the above are simply a trigger, for the hormones that set in. What logic can rule out as a mere fact, emotion makes the greatest feeling in ...

I believe that I want to settle for nothing but perfect, and I've been told that I can be delusional about it. But what is perfect for me, doesn't have to be perfect for all. In a world full of those who avoid reconciliation with what they feel, I want to be someone who can talk about everything. I can be far lagging behind my agenda, but that doesn't mean I can't want something. For, to settle, is too mainstream. We all live in fancy little glass shells that we resort to, thinking that we will be in these shells with 'the person' one day. But, we fail to realize, that everyone can be 'the person', that's if that's what we want. To think that love comes to most effortlessly is nothing but sham, and the truth is, that even a dress is a perfect fit only when it is tailor-made.

Emotions are like the bottomless ocean. You look at a puppy and all you feel is love. You feel unloved by your beloved and suddenly all you can feel is this sinking feeling in your stomach. There's no end to it, and you don't know how to stop. But, when you look at your favorite character suffer, you feel endless pain too. The only difference between the two is the fact that the latter are not your emotions, they're, in fact, a result of what we know to be empathy. All my life, I have felt what others feel. When my friend gets sad, I'm sad, and just one smile of theirs can make me happy like never before. Empathy is greatest of all emotions, for it is as simple as feeling what the other is feeling, but so much more. You look at it and see that empathy encloses within itself every emotion a human can feel. Now, imagine feeling nothing but empathy. It's like having all the air in the world, but not being able to breathe. For, when I feel what everyone else feels...

To say that one has moved on is not so simple, for you haven't really experienced love if you could give up on another chance with the person without blinking even once. Love is everything. It's about you, about the person you love. It's about your feelings, about their feelings. It's insecurity, and yet it's the one place where you feel secure. It's something that makes you feel you have right over them, and yet you feel like you belong to them. Sometimes it's about vulnerability. Sometimes it is pure strength. To say that you would give up your chance at having that with the person you love is not just stupid, it means you never understood what it is. Love is so much more than just words or actions and yet is a mere feeling. Because that is what love is, nothing you can just fathom. Merely feel. Love may not be something you know about or can understand, and even when it has aspects that you cannot deem certain, the only certainty that can ever be as...

To the world I look like an idiot falling in love with someone that barely acknowledges my existence. To them, I'm scheming and planning to be something more than I am, at least in their eyes. They see it like some task, where one does whatever it takes to finish in time, beating others to a prize they seem fit- a person. For the world, it is easy to recognize objectification of the body, it is the heart they hear not, and well, see not. For the one you think I'm trying to win has a soul too, one that you actively demean each time you think someone's futile manipulation can woo. Has it become so hard for one to not see something as is? Is it so rare to be selfish by being selfless about something? For yes, I do things for my beloved that most wouldn't, even when I know my dear would never hold me dear to him. But, I do nothing out of fitful urge to satisfy my carnal demands only, as I can be selfish, yes, but only to see my beloved feel loved, for that's what I...

I feel lost in myself, the complexity of the the mind that I call mine. I'm torn between choosing me for myself and choosing someone else for myself. I'm torn between feeling what I am feeling and feeling what I'm supposed to feel. Wrong are those who say royalty can afford every luxury, for when I stand at the position of queen, decorum takes greater importance than the essence of me. Like this tree, I want to grow, but how can I grow when I have to choose between my growth and the very hands that provide me water? Maybe this is why kids always emphasize on being princesses, free to be who they are, free to choose love, for being queen gives me everything but freedom, and constantly pushes me to shut my emotions off to be the better person.

When you tend to lose people to Death, there's an uncanny trend that develops in you. Social but reclusive, attached but detached. When there's someone who you think is growing close to you, you inevitably choose to push them away. One mistake, the last straw. This defense mechanism is easy for one to choose, because it looks like it's saving you. You victimise yourself, blaming the wrongdoer and yourself at the same time. You develop a feeling of despair, desperation. You long to be saved. Much like panicking in shallow water, you scream, shout and call for help, when you're all the help you need. You begin to feel like you need a savior, like you have no chance at redemption on your own. That's when it's important to realize, that a relic is a mere reflection of a witch's power, for when she thinks her power comes from the relic, the mere object draws strength from her.