“The memory is the sentiment, and an emotion, directly connected to that memory, cannot ever be argued with, through the use of logic. Emotions, by themselves, are deceiving. A man cannot ever win against raw emotion, because the brain, connected to the spinal cord, would make it an impossible task to traverse the vast many veins, arteries, and blood vessels that become heated, during when a woman argues with him. That is, he cannot logically discern, nor successfully subdue her, because those emotions are infinite, have infinite paths, and would prove to be a maddening task, to comprehend each of them. Therefore, to comprehend a woman, a man must think on simplicity. A man must gather her memories like fragments to a broken mirror, stitch each piece together, and remind her of the first moment to when both the man and the woman had collided, had embraced, and had kissed. The first, is what a woman desires to be the last, the finality. For it is because a woman’s own body is a battlefield, able to remain in silence, or decorated with the corpses of those who had tried to win her. She loves, though loves through whom she shares her body with, through whom she shares her home with, so long as he doesn’t destroy it. That home should be peaceful.”
“Love is the emotion of pain and sacrifice; as well, it is the emotion of truth and honesty. Within all of this, love becomes also the emotion of division and support. For just as the four beams to raise high a building must be evenly divided in four separate sections, so the building may stand, such is the same for love. It is the same for love, because all four beams to raise a building requires strength. The strength of men, that is, to lift high not a moronic empire of countless and needless divisions, though to raise high the woman of his choice. As a man controls the sciences and mathematics, he would be the one to make a choice, to simplify his own life into a singular. Love is the emotion of support; and, in such division, there is sacrifice. A man should murder his past in this. Love requires a man to honor a promise. He should sooner slit his own throat than to betray not the woman, but the promise to the woman. To live with this promise to a woman should make a man form a great fear in his mind to threaten himself, in becoming an insect, should he choose to abandon that promise.”
“Comprehend, as one might, that the world employs both the existence of martyrs and Gods, those who fall and those who rise; and to be understood from this, is that the realest forms of suffering conjures up thoughts of individual treatment. Speak with whatever suffering you’ve endured, and do not deny this simple wisdom: the usability of assets, and the people to cherish and cling upon. Form the relationships of advantageous gain, and, as well, form the relationships of truest worship. There are people upon this earth to act as no more than a resource, and there are people upon this earth to love until eternity dies on its own. And we will each know in our hearts that the love of truest love, the relationship of truest heart and fiery devotion, is only ever attained when a past is strangled and buried.”
“Whoever had said that a man cannot comprehend a woman, is another stupid man, who hasn’t felt the blood from a battlefield. The woman holds the womb of soldiers. The woman holds the womb that presents death to a world. To her, and whenever she has felt the bite of love, she is reminded once more of what matters. She will kiss and kiss again, though if the kiss isn’t honest, then her heart won’t be touched. The simplicity of a woman is vaster than her love of temptation. That temptation is always deception, a devil in the disguise of a suit and silver tie. A woman is ‘submissive’ through a memory of what she knows matters, when it has to do with love and loyalty. The ‘bite of love’ is the bite of acceptance. When no part of the world joins with her in eternal loyalty, she will turn to that temptation. She will turn to feast upon a table that is piled with apples, and away from her husband, because she knows that he didn’t press hard enough to resist. She will turn to Satan, or a politician, because she knows that such a ‘bite of love’ wasn’t at all an honest kiss, and now she prefers the dishonesty of fame and power, receiving the taste of a different sweetness.
It is because, a memory to a woman, is where she hoards the polarities of pleasantness and unpleasantness. Love leaves the mark on her neck, while deception will strangle her mind. Deception will strangle her mind through the urge to compete, over the love involved in collaboration with a husband. She will resent teamwork, and soon believe in the value of self-worth. All this, because loyalty has begun to disintegrate.
The reminder to a woman and her acceptance must come as the honesty and only the honesty. The love and the devotion, not the deception that comes off as usage, until she is discarded.
A woman’s body is the battlefield; it is a place where she has received both deception and devotion. It is a place where a solider comprehends that he protects three things: his wife, his mother, and his territory
A woman’s reminder to her pleasing past, will come off as that simplicity, because to be simple is to reveal a memory. It is never the complications that present the battlefield to her and its many bodies. For she will step barefoot into that battlefield to find her son, and will find him. She will find him, and carry him home, cradled in arms. She will discover the memory to which she finds pleasing.”