Saturday, September 24, 2011

♥ a journal of love ♥

Write darling, write every day, write your whole life so love never fades. You could spend a lifetime writing all your woes and delights, your whole life building cities of the interior, writing about the aching sensitive that only love awakes in your body. You waste away writing about the one you love, the one you could love forever so.

For you, love was never a defense from a cruel world, it was the only answer you could find to the mayhem of making sense of everyday, it was never a choice but the only obvious way through. You choose love because it’s the only thing that makes the fear disappear, you fall in love because love is greater than yourself, it still holds the power to make waves and oceans in you. You love because it fills you with sorrow and you need sorrow to remember you are alive. You can never tell if all the joy you feel when you love will overwhelm you or kill you very slowly. You choose love because you’ve always been frightened to be alone, you are terrified of your thoughts, so you fall in love so you never have to think, your body is always taken by emotion, you are not real to yourself, you create the haze that blinds you.

You believe in nothing else but love, the world is too fast, too crazy, you hold on to the ghosts you’ve loved, every man a sailor to your dock, every nymph a soulmate who once shared her beauty with you. You love with such blind and deathly passion that you soon forget what you will find behind the door that has kept you from being eaten by wolves, a door that leads to a world of unknown dangers and truths you’ve never wanted to see.

You are still searching for that great other to fill you with dreams and secrets about yourself, someone else who could bring you the beauty that you’ve failed to grasp, clues and pieces to mend what once was broken. This, darling, is the greatest truth you hold, you are certain that everyone is broken, someway, somehow... you look around and see everybody trying to pretend they are whole, but you know different, you see the holes in the surface, you dream of the tears that fall at nightime, you still believe that it’s far dreamier to share loneliness than to sail utterly alone.

You still hold your breath when you surrender because deep inside, you are always aware that love is never generous sharing but desperate seeking




I've been reading Anaïs Nin again, after a long time of putting her diaries and novels to rest. Everytime I read her words, I feel possessed with this clarity that love and only love is the true and only important thing in the whole world.
I know it can be this simple.





















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