(no subject)
It’s sad how naïve we can be. While in the moment we believe we are behaving in the most mature fashion, it is in reflection that we pathetically realize just how infantile our actions had been. Fallen head over heels in love, or should I say infatuation…love for him, or the idea of him? It is terribly embarrassing to look back and know that even though it had felt so real, so permanent, it was fleeting and incredibly artificial. So is it ever real? Is it ever forever? Or are they merely dragged out infatuations with another being that upon its dying out simply is continued to be played out for fear of being alone? A cynic at heart I can’t help but question if love is ever truly real; could it be just another aspect of life that man has fabricated, like friendship, like religion there to offer us some sort of falsified comfort. A much sought after ideal that is utopian and as such, unattainable. Maybe these are just the pitiable ranting and ravings of a so called love jilted fool but on the other hand, maybe we really are all alone; each one of us secluded in our own worlds desperately trying to create pseudo connections with those around us to ease the pain and reality of our true isolation. I just don’t know.