Being so exposed to the thought of love often confuses its true meaning. Lust and pity is often mistaken for love, even when they are very different in so many ways. Remarkably, lust and pity can be a part of love. Love is an artificial construct. A compilation of several emotions, lust and pity are a couple of those. They are not love, but they can be a part of love. It is for this reason that I still hold out hope for Love. Real Love. For to me, love is the package of emotions that makes it possible to care for someone. It is the tears, the laughter, the anger, the pain, the loss, the betrayal, the warmth, the trust, the peace, and everything else that happens between you and someone you care deeply about. It doesn't matter who it is. And should that person feel the same way for you? Good Luck to you both. For it is a long and painful road, being in Love. And, like a road, it only has a few places that you can get out of the car and admire what is there.
"What is darkness but the absence of light?" Someone said this though I do not remember who. I heard it and I believed it, but understand it? Rather, I think, I put my own thoughts into what it meant. To me, Darkness is just another proven fact that for one thing there must be an opposite. Yin and Yang, as some wise China man theorized. Darkness is the opposite of light, no more evil then the ground is from the sky. No different then Males from Females. Darkness is not something to be feared or revered as it's own entity. It is only the completion of a balance that has existed for ages. I believe no life is complete without first experiencing not just the good times, but the bad as well. How is one to truly understand happiness if they have not yet experienced sadness? How can one know to be grateful before they have went without? The answer is simple, they can't. No matter how much they study, or watch others, they will remain ignorant. They will not know the true representation of these feelings until they have experience the opposite. That, I firmly believe in. I admit that I cannot empathize with many feelings. I can't live fully yet, for I have never experienced a time when my life could of ended. Nor can I love fully, for I have never been truly hated. This makes for a very sad assistance if you think about it too long, and too hard. Dwelling on these facts have made me regret my life, even try to end it at times. However, I could never fulfill the plans of my demise. The reason I believe is this; no matter how much I wanted it all to end, I remained because deep down I wanted to live. Buried beneath my petty and selfish views I knew that ending my life wasn't an option. Obviously, I am still alive. So now instead of turning to self-pity for my deprivation of certain feelings and experiences, I turn to my pencil. I write, because my conciseness tells me to. I write, because I have experienced many things and I feel that my voice should not be left unheard. I write, because there are people out there who may hear my words and help them. That unknown person who wrote "What is Darkness but the absence of Light?" helped me, though they probably did not know it. My words are mostly fiction, true, but the feelings and the lessons I place in them? They are absolutely true.
Sometimes you got to wonder what goes on in the mind of a writer. Whether or not they believe in their stories like so so many of their readers do is one common question I always think of. Do they believe in the fantastical castles filled with wizards in dragons? Do they think that one can fall in love with a random stranger met during an interview? I, for one, is open to the possibility that such things exist, of have existed, at one point or another. Each story has a basis in fact. Also, where do the characters these authors write come into being? Some say they are based off a person who caught their attention. Others have no idea how the character cam to exist in their mind. I am glad to say i'm a mixture of both. When I actually think about my characters I do tend to base them off people I have encountered. Other times they just pop into my head and say "Here I am! Now write!". The only qualm I have with any of my characters is that they never leave. They continue to remain in my head with their distinct personalities and sometimes I wonder whether I'm going crazy by actually talking to them every once and awhile. But that's just me.