“Not the love, but the trust, that quits its breath. For nothing hurts more of the ended romance, than knowing we still love them. Such means, that not love, but the trust, always dies. We love them, still remaining hurt, though our trust, our closeness, is now the parting. For as love dwells in the mind, as trust is for the body, then we cannot believe love will die, so long as memories remain.”
– Modern Romanticism
Tag: Vulnerability
Quote – “The ‘Object’ of Beauty” – 7/23/2020
“Why would any woman state that she is an ‘object’ of beauty, when no object can be beautiful? It is a contradiction, in such a sense, when to be an object makes a person not a human. Just as the artwork is given life through not its perception, though in its identification to being recognizable as any destructible creation, it is the same.
To be beautiful, means to be recognized, identified, and compared as a human, to another. It means to be viewed just as vulnerable as the flesh of the next person. For if we are human, then we are a creation of an artist. We are truth, because truth is created. Truth cannot be broken down, unless it is a lie. Truth is exposed, like the vulnerability of the nude form.
Beauty has no armor to it. Beauty is always vulnerable and fragile. Then, to be weak, in this sense, means to be human, means to be alike, means to be of the same clay.”
– Modern Romanticism
Quote – “Not One Person is Special…” – 6/14/2020
“Not one person is special to the reflection of themselves. For the only time a person is deemed as such, is through another person’s gaze. We are all vulnerable, until we are lifted by another person’s arms, shown that we are special through their eyes. Were there to be the last person to live in a world, there’d only be darkness and loneliness, not love. For love cannot come upon the self. It comes through discovery and exploration. We land upon that which we cannot part with, and say to others they are unable to touch our possession. When we love, we have forged a specialty. We have made something of someone else, through their vulnerable, bare, and raw self. For each wholeness in this world was crafted from pieces.”
– Anonymous
Modern Romanticism 