Love is not an Emotion

Factors that are utilitarian, being emotions, are where trust has its place. Emotions can be manipulated, because as to flesh, they are real. What is realest to a human is their humanity. Perhaps if the greatest expression of humanity is in our tears, being the trademark to our vulnerability as humans, then while emotions can be expressed, love cannot. Rather, love is confessed. Love is admitted. Indeed, we feel while in love, though only because we cannot be as perfect nor as absolute as either love or death. In the loss of trust, there is, too, the loss of life. There cannot be the loss of love, because love is either the delusion or the illusion for which life always misunderstands.

A person in love should be a person who is content, not needing more without the risk of infidelity. As humans, we misunderstand love, because unlike love, we are able to die of our lives and beating hearts. This misunderstanding is in the observer to love, that just like an Atheist will say of God to show himself for proof and legitimacy, will not be possible among lovers. If an Atheist can reprimand the Christian for their lack of evidence to the existence of God, then that same Atheist would also be someone to criticize the lover for their illogical actions while in love. However, whether we speak on Atheism, Christianity or a human, there is always illogical action for the loyal lover. It is why it cannot be understood whether by the Atheist to the Christian’s point on God, nor by the simple human to a lover’s acts when in love. For if an Atheist can find it redundant or ridiculous for the Christian to have evidence of God, then so will everyone else will find the common lover ridiculous for their evidential ways. It is why love is gray. It is why love should be differed from trust, because while anyone of a scientific mind will find reality to be a greater value, it was only because evidence must be real or physical to be understandable.

Love is non-physical, non-functional, and also useless. As illogical as it is to love, and to be criticized by someone else to the acts behind love, determines love as without utilitarian factors. Love is illogical by what is questioned towards itself, though only by the observers to a lover. Question the lover and it is not possible to sway themselves out of what cannot change. As love cannot change, then nor can the lover for their love.

While we have emotions, we are able to use them on our own, or such emotions, such realities of a human are there to be used or even manipulated by someone else. A material gain is subjected to the appetite of something that notices what is vulnerable. A person can gain, out of the vulnerable human, the same as a predator can kill to devour the weakened prey. With trust, there is the idea that to have a vulnerable person close themselves to the predator becomes the essence of seduction. Lust is the factor, here, that has vulnerability become demise out of apparent mistrust.

Although, while love is emotionless, there is perfection. It is the imperfect human who cannot understand love, because perfection is neither imaginable nor viewable. If science believes there is no direction in the infinite space, then it is the same with love that cannot be pointed at for its place. That is, one cannot see love, the same way a person cannot view the past without the memory being involved. In the infinite, there are certainties. Without direction, there is space, while there are also memories that if time were to be forcefully moved forward out of whatever machine allows this, it would have to be done where there is a path forward. Within space, there is only memory. That is, time cannot be moved backwards towards certainty or to what cannot be possibly changed. With only space, then matter created or matter to be changed is not possible without uncertainty.

Without being an emotion, love is anywhere. As the creator to life, continuation of movement must show direction for the creation, being life. If life is meant to be such when displaying movement, there it motions onwards towards uncertainty. Whenever time is counted, it is so for where there were certain moments ever counted. That is, time can only be counted when those moments, having been passed, were transformed from uncertainty into certainty. While love is emotionless, there is something that can be counted of it, though only up to one. This means that all moments counted were done so, backwards, not forwards. While love is anywhere, there is no specific place for it, though simply pertains to its directionless presence. Space is there to tell life that when it is able to move, it would not be towards space or within loss, though on the directions that are familiar.

Emotions, being familiar areas, are for the uncertain future. On love, being something residing in the past while also giving hope for the future, allows itself to be certain, though also misunderstood. If love was ever understood, then no life would be moving forward into the future. If love was ever for strict human presence, no future would be uncertain. It is then love that must be the ingredient for life’s evolution to take place, while the certain past governs and gives hope to the uncertain future. That is where wisdom results as the outcome to those lost in their uncertainties, of their fear keeping them inside what is certain. A fearful person is lost in the terrain of death, being what is equal to love and also the other certainty of the past.

Emotionless love makes itself the singular creator to life, though also tests its creations for their fear. If God is said to be life’s creator, while also said to be what epitomizes love, then for the sake of fear, there is either to dwell in the landscapes of death or of love. If we fear God, then it means to fear ourselves able to die when not listening to what is true. Our deception is in believing more in death, rather than the love meant to guide life. Then, our deception is in believing more in what is meaningless, over retaining the meaning in either our life or in those that still remain. All is loved, admired, and appreciated beyond death, when we instill in our hearts the meaning within life.

It should then be said that life is beautiful, while death is hideous. Then, a physical representation of death, as painted on a canvas, is the attempt to bring back to life what is displayed as death. Painting grief is creating art, understood in the canvas as grief, though comprehended by life as something hideous. Grief is therefore not beautiful to life, though it might not be hideous to the artist.

All things similar to life, being beauty or truth, has their relations to individualist expression. Love is what would carry forth the creation, beyond its death, in the remembrance of life’s value. This is why an artist’s work is admired, beyond the death of the artist. We find value in life the same way as a population remains admiring an artist’s work, beyond the creator’s death. It is a creator who, when they replicate creation, can die due to not being the original creator of life. Love is the original creator of life, because as love is emotionless, it could not be created without being an emotion.

While love is everywhere and anywhere, it is not bound to emotions that can be stated for what is being felt, specifically. Not being bound to emotions makes love indivisible. As love is there in all areas for life to walk onward towards, not having direction its space, it reveals to living things a oneness that, in being all of life’s origin, cannot be divided without removing space. If space is there, after matter is removed, then what defines space is the uncertainty of the future. That is, such an uncertainty is in what was now is, due to space having become occupied.

It can be here stated that when a human feels, while in love, it is their divisible selves entering into the oneness of an indivisible embrace. As in, what was not occupied of its space, at first, is now given the presence of matter through the movement of life. Life becomes divided in all manner of emotions, because only life, not love, is able to be divided. One cannot divide love, though the space where love resides in the anywhere and the everywhere is waiting for life’s movement in its directionless presence. It is then noted that when life loves, it is content, stagnated as death, since to be dissatisfied while in love risks betraying the one who lent their trust.

As was said of love, that it cannot be expressed though confessed, means that such cannot be divided. Division is to expression, as love is to confession. Although, confessions must be backed by action, or else stagnation in reference to death and how it deceives life is the only spot for existence. Confession is the truth, that through love, is a oneness of itself that can only be divided through absence. That is, to confess love means to share truth that must be whole, not able to be interpreted for its division. The only way to interpret confessed love is to perceive such as not truthful, though deceitful. A dead life cannot love, though a life that is dead is always loved, beyond its death. Then, to perceive a confessed love as dishonest is through knowing what is dead of the life that has confessed it. If it has not moved apart from death, still mourning over death in being deceived by it, then it cannot be for them to love anew. If by loving means to create out of it, then it cannot ever be with the value of death in mind. Valuing death means for life to value deception or the inability to move past what stagnates all lives in it, in grief. Life is only beautiful when it is admired and appreciated for the honesty that was able to present forth what is not leftover from the past in death, though made from love for the sake of the future.

While love is being expressed, emotions are felt through our divisible selves gaining entry into the space of love. Through love’s confession, humanity is allowed to enter a realm perhaps identical to Heaven, that if named also the afterlife, can be said as the conclusion to life while it still lives. Love is, to humans, paradise, since there is no other direction to Heaven than in being remembered. As love is space, while emotions are materialized for their realness, then what a human is while falling in love is life’s only allowance to enter towards a directionless route.

Love does not become divided, unless for its absence when it is a confession that was not given with truth. Absence of love is the presence of a stagnated life that feels the emotions bound of itself in the past, remembering death. Remembering death is through emotions, as the materialization of life that, for its value to the deaths of the past, remains divided among such. Division is for emotions, as all feelings that are felt, by the human, is the materialization of them. In death being equal to love, it is how the former can be remembered for its divided flesh. If decay is how life shows its ends, then love could keep it as one. Divided flesh is divided emotions, that through life holding value to death, makes the felt emotions of grief as how life is as divided as what is dead.

It is the choice of life to remain bound to the value of death, due to what is imprisoning is always a comfort from deception. Deception is the value of death, though as emotionless as love is makes love not ever deceitful. All perceptions of humans are those towards emotions, since if love is not truthful for its confession was because love did not make a oneness out of life’s division in valuing death. Perceiving a lie is therefore the ability to see emotions that divide the person apart from truth, stagnating them outside from what is meant to be said for what will be said to escape from discovery.

If a person is discovered for their deceit, then they have expressed, not confessed in their supposed love to another. A wholeness of truth, not expressed, is always the confession that cannot hold back what might be otherwise reserved. If reservation is present, it is based on an expression there as emotions in which are divided among their many. As emotions can be counted, they represent the splintered person that cannot collect them, enough to become a confession. A person still hurt is someone whose emotions can be expressed in perhaps an infinite number of times, without ever a confession to renew love.

Renewing love renews the heart. Though, the heart must have been organized to see the self, with enough clarity to recreate what was believed to be missing. When the heart is divided, it is absent. When the heart is said to be broken, such means that the heart is deep in the memory of what has been lost. Of loss or of death, there is the heart that when full of emotions, can be expressed into creations that were out of love, though only out of what was lost to life. That is, out of loss, there is expression that can be made into artworks, though cannot be the confession that is an entire truth. When truth is confessed, it is not art as expression, though something that remains whole, not ever divided into sections that exist for the sake of an expression.

Emotionless love is a factual kind, being what is no longer illogical when confessed, due to it being the same as perhaps math. A mathematical equation that solves the complexity to a problem is the same as organizing divided emotions into whole or complete love. In a confession, we do not express it, though are honest without restraint. With restraint or reservation, there is thought back to death or loss. There is, through such restraint, a heart that is to express more than it can confess, due to death being more the value than love.

Emotions are plentiful, though are kept for the imperfections of a human. As common as bloodshed or hurt may be, in all parts of the earth, the same can be stated for expression. Imperfection is to humanity by the human being able to show a wound, reveal a color, or express an emotion.

Love is as absolute as death, while emotions can be counted. Wounds can be counted, though the ability to understand or to heal a wound is through love. If love heals, then it is itself upon the imperfection able to perfect it. As in, love perfects the imperfection in being able to confess what would have been expressed were all there to do was carry around the hurt from the loss.

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