It makes hurt seem almost blissful, and love nearly sinful.
When two people, once in love, each decide to share that exclusive emotion with someone else, it is inarguably the nadir of their relationship. Perched precariously on the edge of a precipice, hoping that everything is illusory, they sink into the oblivion of self-denial and mild psychedelia. "Just how long more is it gonna hold up?"; that is the question. All you need is a gentle nudge, a playful jolt, or an insensitive quip to release an avalanche of burgeoning contempt. After all, love and hate have always shared a mere gossamery divide between them. When reality and fantasy once again become distinctly immiscible concepts to be dealt with by a couple, there is little left to hold that divide.
If I haven't been emphasising enough already, it is my greatest pleasure to be studying a film and literature module. It sometimes baffles me, in an amazing way, how I'm intrinsically attracted to the Arts, yet never had the self-efficacy (or aptitude; but that would just be sad because that means I'm insanely delusional) to pursue something along that line. I don't know what it is, but I guess to simplify and put it in the most saturated sense, it is how a freedom of expression - visual, aural or textual - capturing a feeling or emotion from an individual's perspective, invariably means something to someone else when propagated.
A common language, spoken with such grace, that all who shared a moment in it cannot help but unwittingly replace or mend a part of their soul with its beauty.
Taking these lessons widened my horizon and beckoned me to explore the different forms of love that exist, and even question the motives behind some of these expressions of passionate emotions. We pondered over how outer beauty was considered a portrayal of inner beauty, but has been debunked much too often. We questioned whether Beauty could really love Beast if he didn't become a ravishing Prince Charming, or if Kim could really love Edward and his scissorhands. We will explore how a brief encounter transcended to an extramarital affair, and if the heart is really a captive of violent passions. Concluding Beauty and the Beast and introducing the theory that attraction is fundamentally primitive - a search for someone of greater physical quality so as to alleviate the shortcomings in ours and produce a physically appealing offspring - seems to be too warped an idea for me to conceive. But hey, I'm here to open myself to the things I could never fathom, so that I learn something new each time.
So I'm sitting here in the library@esplanade trying to soak in all the artistic qualities of this place (haha so naive), plugged in to Adele's concert performance, and reading something of utterly gross contrast (research stuff; it's really as dreadfully dry as it can get), but still enjoying the comfort I am in and typing this out.
No matter how hard I try to conceal myself or put on a mask of any sort, I am truly, honestly, and unwaveringly, an emotional person who always feels too much, wanders too far in my mind, and full of idiosyncrasies - and always will be, even if I'm only this person to myself. I can't change who I am, and I shouldn't have to. Because one day I hope to love someone with all that passion in my heart, and have someone love me back for that.
A common language, spoken with such grace, that all who shared a moment in it cannot help but unwittingly replace or mend a part of their soul with its beauty.
Taking these lessons widened my horizon and beckoned me to explore the different forms of love that exist, and even question the motives behind some of these expressions of passionate emotions. We pondered over how outer beauty was considered a portrayal of inner beauty, but has been debunked much too often. We questioned whether Beauty could really love Beast if he didn't become a ravishing Prince Charming, or if Kim could really love Edward and his scissorhands. We will explore how a brief encounter transcended to an extramarital affair, and if the heart is really a captive of violent passions. Concluding Beauty and the Beast and introducing the theory that attraction is fundamentally primitive - a search for someone of greater physical quality so as to alleviate the shortcomings in ours and produce a physically appealing offspring - seems to be too warped an idea for me to conceive. But hey, I'm here to open myself to the things I could never fathom, so that I learn something new each time.
So I'm sitting here in the library@esplanade trying to soak in all the artistic qualities of this place (haha so naive), plugged in to Adele's concert performance, and reading something of utterly gross contrast (research stuff; it's really as dreadfully dry as it can get), but still enjoying the comfort I am in and typing this out.
No matter how hard I try to conceal myself or put on a mask of any sort, I am truly, honestly, and unwaveringly, an emotional person who always feels too much, wanders too far in my mind, and full of idiosyncrasies - and always will be, even if I'm only this person to myself. I can't change who I am, and I shouldn't have to. Because one day I hope to love someone with all that passion in my heart, and have someone love me back for that.
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