“We are ignorant, due to the fear that keeps us parted. We are knowledgeable, due to the bravery that keeps us close.”– Modern Romanticism
Each human possesses a history. Though, such can only ever be discovered through making oneself vulnerable to the senses of another.
We should not hurt, alone. When alone, and when we fall, what lifts us? Were a human to have broken legs, who’d carry them? Were a human to have a broken heart, who’d mend it? All the time, a person believes they can handle life, on their own. Has such a mindset resulted from continuous betrayal by others?
We cannot know another simply through “external” details, such as appearance. This much is obvious, and forms a prejudice that generalizes the one person from the next, solely by those surface details. By the surface, the prejudiced human is in fear of diving to greater details. It is the same as a book cover, where the fearful person is not wanting to look beyond the surface, to see something of always greater truth.
Defeat is no testament to the rejection of love. It is the support of it, for it to raise another to a state of completion, and once more, movement.
Yet, no politician can legislate love, without sparking fear, instead of courage, for his people. No leader can unite a population “around love”, without resulting that love to be its opposite, being fear. For as we are heroes in love, we are cowards in fear. Such of the latter is obvious, though for love’s sake, we cannot simply collect ourselves through the instincts of being protective of each other. That is, we will not be protective of each other, when trust is not being offered for those around us.
We allow another in, through trust. We keep another parted, through distrust. The subjugating dictator who “unites” his people under what he believes to be a vision of collection, is always a collection in the name of fear. Such is always the result in the individual becoming detached from that collection, and forming a rebellion.
That rebellious individual is the free one. They have detached themselves from the collection, to have their own voice.
Limits come into play, when we forget that love can unite, though only by who one trusts. When we trust, we can know. When we know, we can hold secrets, and we can be private in intimacy.
The whisper in the ear, the caress on the neck, are intimate sensations that would only be enacted, upon the feeling of trust. The rapist, in this sense, is subduing the individual, out of force. Through willingness, we are subdued out of a submission to who we trust. Through force, we are subdued out of a submission to who we do not trust.
It is through this, that those who think on collections without trust, think solely on numbers. Whereas, those who have love in their hearts, believe in oneness.
All instincts, related to protection, are to defend what is completed, through genuine and actual love. For were we to lose what is collected to us, to make the oneness, we would lose ourselves, too. Genuine love makes a oneness, objectively so. We are not one when we can easily lose from us what we view to be expendable.