After making a website, facebook page, tumblr and instagram, in which I said I write all that may come to mind, I felt it too much work. SO I didn’t. But alas, here I am, with a thought that has COME TO MIND.
What makes loving something worth it’s risk? Of the many things, animals, plants, specie, humans are the seemingly the only one’s I can ask why they think it’s worth risking the pain of heartbreak, rejection or loss, just because we say we love it.
What justifies it? If love is a motivator to do things, why isn’t fear? Is not being afraid of being heartbroken not enough reason not to try and let it be known that you may have feelings? Is not being anxious about failing not enough reason to not plunge yourself into uncertain doom of the wilderness.
Why do we justify our lives on the idea that, somehow, doing what “we love” makes it worth it? As though, doing what we fear has never been as powerful a motivator. Why use an emotion that seemingly doesn’t exist in many other specie.
How do you justify it with, love?
You will get those who are so smitten by the palatiablity of not being alone, saying that I must just wait and be in love. and what I find idiotic is that I have, the heartbreak that accompanied that love was not worth it. So how do you justify anything through love?
It sound like a lazy way to think, a way to “khumbaya” through a stressful situation because the reality of it not being as special as you think, makes life all the more painful to live.
So short are our lives that justifying anything beyond love may seem to make life having had been worthless. Foolish, I say. Albeit I admit that love itself may be worth it, but I also believe that is me trying to give myself purpose beyond satisfying my own selfish-desires that do not include procreation or any sort of partnership in fear of loneliness.
I often ask, if humans could create kids on their own, no male or female, just procreation, and we didn’t believe that loneliness is so wrong, that our own company is in itself worth all the love we seek, would we be so keen to love. Would love seem all so worth it?
It is not worth it’s pain, not worth it’s risk, but much like the ground we stand on, the need for it seems ever so real. It feels more like a curse than anything.
One I wish I was excluded from. I so wish those who think differently, thought so, when they lose that very love.
What comes to mind 