“As they say that love conquers all, though only in the remembrance of the heart’s function. To never forget the greatest importance, is above all what plagues the mind. Reconfirmation. To remind oneself of the greatest treasure, as that is to preserve the heartbeat. Why does it beat? If to love is to feel who we are loving, then we must conquer ourselves, our fears, before we can conquer what suffocates another.”– Modern Romanticism
It should be said that every emotion aligns with fear. Outside of fear, there is love. Though, outside of love, there is fear, due to all emotions being fleeting. As with life, crumbling under fear to drag it down, love raises. Love is the divine and indomitable force that is beyond emotion.
For if we are always imperfect due to ourselves believing the most temporary of fears, or feelings, will last, then that is where blunders are made.
If all emotions are never eternal, then it is love that is the only force to be.
Mistakes, for a human, align themselves with the temporary. Is life a mistake? Only if we have nothing to protect.
We are temporary, if we never loved. Of our bodies, so susceptible to its weight, as we become weightless to fly, in love. We do love, when we realize we are not mere flesh and bones. We are love, when we see ourselves and others as the same, beyond the many shapes we can construct.
Love is not an emotion, because as all feelings are never permanent, love remains to conquer the uncertain mind, with the reminder to the heart.
Things so temporary, like life or of all emotions that cannot last, are how a human makes mistakes. Imperfection is in these short-term endeavors, to feel something. Though, perfection is to love, in the remembrance, and only the reminder, to what is important for our actions.
Among each things so temporary and so ephemeral, there is no love. Love keeps the flesh together and strengthened. Love keeps the image from being shattered. If we make mistakes enough to hurt ourselves, or hurt another, then we can easily believe such imperfections will remain. A human is only ever to remain imperfect, out of no love. As love perfects the imperfection, we become accepted. We realize why we are alive.
Humans are alive, not to die, though to be remembered.