Monday, June 13, 2005

life and love

Love is like an open wound. When the wound is fresh, just like love, we feel it intensely. Everything that touches it, comes in contact with it or even just a puff of air, we feel the pain at the very core.

Much like love, early on, we feel it’s every movement, its changes, its progression or regression. We are too keen with everything it does, we become extremely careful not to wound it any further.

As time goes by and as the wound starts its healing process, we become less and less involved with it. We do not give it that much of attention anymore as the wound is not so delicate any longer. With love, we tend to take things for granted therefore, not giving it the same amount of interest we gave it before.

The blood coagulates and the wound closes, sealing it from any more pain inflicted from the outside. Unsuspectingly, love then disappears from a lover's heart.


And the intense, deep feeling rendered by the wound fades away. Replaced by feeling nothing at all..


Reminiscent of love.

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How could she ask me that? What does she want, to understand why I was crying? Doesn't she realize I'm a perfectly normal person, with the same desires and fears as everyone else, and that a question like that, now that it's all too late, could throw me into panic?

As she was walking down the corridors, lit by the same faint light as in the ward, Veronika relized that it was too late. She could no longer control her fear.

I must get a grip on myself. I'm the kind of person who sticks to any decision she makes, who always sees things through.

Its true that in her life she had seend many things through to their ultimate consequences, but only unimportant things, like prolonging a quarrel that could easily have been resolved with an apology, or not phoning a man she was in love with simply because she thought the relationship would lead nowhere. She was intransigent about the easy things, as if trying to prove to herself how strong and indifferent she was, when in fact she was just a fragile woman who had never been an outstanding student, never excelled at school sports, and had never succeeded in keeping the peace at home.

She had overcome her minor defects only to be defeated by matters of fundamental importance. She had managed to appear utterly independent when she was, in fact, desperately in need of company. When she entered a room everyone would turn to look at her, but she almost always ended the night alone, in the convent, watching a TV that she hadn't even bothered to have properly tuned. She gave all her friends the impression that she was a woman to be envied, and she expended most of her energy in trying to behave in accordance with the image she had created of herself.

Because of that she had never had enough energy to be herself, a person who, like everyone else in the world, needed other people in order to be happy. But other people were so difficult. They reacted in unpredictable ways, they surrounded themselves with defensive wallks, they behaved just as she did, pretending they didn't care about anything. When someone more open to life appeared, they either rejected them outright or made them suffer, consigning them to being inferior, ingenous.

She might have impressed a lot of people with her strength and determination, but where had it left her? In the void. Utterly alone. In Villete. In the ateroom of death.

- from Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coelho


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When will you learn from you tears and suffering?
When will you see that destiny is in your hands?
- from When will you learn by Boy George

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There's gotta be more to life than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me.
Cause the more that I'm tripping out thinking there must be more to life
Well it's life, but I'm sure... there's gotta be more than wanting more
- from (There's Gotta Be) More to Life by Stacie Orrico

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I know you're the loneliest person I know
Just a blade in the grass that won't grow
Just a hand holding on to let go

Time is a train... Time is a train...
Leading you nowhere...
Leading you nowhere

Time is a train
I feel the same
Leading you nowhere
Leading you nowhere

A second page you reach a chapter
You're on the phone but no one's there
Another thing you can't keep after
Another time you're left alone

I know you're the loneliest person I know
Just a flag in the wind that won't blow
Just a tear rolling down the window
- from Loneliest Person I Know by The Splender


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