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Modern Romanticism

The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

Words of Wisdom – “Acceptance, is the Mark of Love, not Respect” – Philosophy on Love – 10/17/2019

October 17, 2019
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“In a competitive society, we demand respect for being used. In a loving society, we demand to be loved, because a human is meant to be embraced, not throttled at the throat with a collar. To believe that ‘respect’ aligns itself with ‘acceptance’, or that ‘acceptance’ aligns itself with ‘respect’ is to be the fighter who continually fights, without any of the rest involved in love.

We are not accepted, when we are respected, nor are we respected, when we are accepted. Only love can be the emotion meant for acceptance, because it is just that emotion that stops the fighter from fighting, and lays the fighter down to a bed for sleep.

Only in a world where respect is most aligned with competition, is ever a fighter someone who is that obstinate, enough to be selfish enough to never understand love, to never understand what it means to stop. A never-ending battle, never-ending progress? We barely even know where we are heading.

The anatomy of science is blind discovery. It is the discovery granted through mistakes, found between the threads in the unknown, between black threads found in space, where we may put a light to see something clear. And, does what we see horrify us? Do we even care?

Love is an emotion we comprehend for its light, and it comes in an instant. It is a light that we should already know exists. And yet, respect never exists unless one is proven for their utility, enough to be respected. Like all light, it is an instantaneous flash, resonating itself as a star shooting among the many. And, what else? It is identical to the human life, continually struggling. Though, the human life never realizes until it has died, that such a life was only ever a brief spark. One shouts the syllables, one shouts the insolence, to find that their words that demand acceptance by way of respect, are actually demanding acceptance by way of love.

It is this way, unless such a person is both obstinate and arrogant enough to believe that their ‘acceptance’ in respect, will lift them to a higher standard, enough for pride to seep into their minds, and be hailed as a god.

A leader is respected, while the herd is loved.”

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Words of Wisdom – “The Rainbow – A Symbol of Hatred” – Philosophy – 9/8/2019

September 8, 2019
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“Were a person to take hatred as a neutral definition, it would merely reveal the definition of ‘change’. To change, is to first be discontent. It is because that was, and still is, the mindset behind every revolutionary, every inventor, and every creator ever known to the world. Even of the husband and wife who make love beneath bed sheets, and create a child, had acted out of the essence of hatred; and such means, to change, because such a child could indeed spark change, and would not be a mere stone to see as stagnant. There is a wisdom that says to live a perfect life, one must be a vegetable, incapable of moving to create fright, or to create harm. To step, and to step upon an insect, created change, or rather, was an act of hatred; and by seeing hatred, in that sense, is to see hatred in a neutral definition. For of all the colors to life, they each represent change, an individual change, and not ever contentment. To be content, is to be in love, or to be loved; and this would mean to never belong to color, or never to belong to change or discontent. To be discontented, is to be feeling the world of hatred, that which life is born upon, to continually change and create ever-more color; and this would make the two black entities between life as the only way life can attain equality. That is, to be in love, or to be dead.”

Poem – “Nothing but the Pain I Feel” – Romance

August 8, 2019
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Beloved,
With scars so engraved,
Am I able to dig them out?

Am I am able to see,
That which has muddled thee,
By the sin we both breathe,
In bitter misery?

Bandage these sores,
For they’ve accumulated,
Vast swarms of flies,
Longing to feast.

I have failed my own God,
The woman I adored,
And now see tragedy,
Upon my doorstep.
He calls himself, “Death”,
And fails to see mercy,
Unless that is his wish,
One I am too blinded to see.

Females in their term of turmoil,
Enemies have betrayed them.
I feast and dine upon wine,
Upon the blood of a youthful swine,
One of which I call “mine”.
Until bones are ashes under the guise of time.

Berate me, now and forever,
The wickedness, now and forever.
Scold me, now to forever,
Be unkind, now to the ever.

I am no man,
Just a feeble form,
Grown old by his bones,
And broken by stones.

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