Buried Notes on Love
Artful Prudence | November 2, 2022 | by Artful Prudence
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1.1 And then one day, it transpired, an enormous and perplexing
sensation, a neurotic fixation, hard to lay a finger on. As if all at
once, it struck like a thunderbolt dead in the center of a bright yet
cloudy landscape. Could it be deep intimacy, or a mere inscrutable
delusion? It was too premature to tell. The boundless uncertainties,
the turmoil, the sheer unrest and disruption of one’s
self-possession put everything to question. Was the preceding and
perfect solitude a prelude to an interminable and unsound madness? 

1.2 How delicately she played her role, how subtle were her steps, as
if to ensure his ignorance of her careful treading. What a delight it
is to be endowed with the chance to dance, with the occasion to gamble
with danger and destruction and death. And what one is willing to
abandon for love! Even among the countless uncertainties and omens
that playfully present themselves at the outset; for love, man dares
to blow even beauty to pieces. 

1.3 One may have been led to believe that love is a profound and
meaningful delight, what one hardly talks about is what precedes it
and protects it – the suffering, the agony, the apprehension, the
on-edgeness of continually, anxiously trying to possess what is liable
to escape one’s grip. To love deeply, unreservedly, truthfully, can
turn out to be a hopelessly terrible thing, but for love? Anything for
love! 

1.4 Love, as it turns out, is a burden, a very eccentrically beautiful
burden that could not possibly be encapsulated in words. And if one
were to expound its infinite shades, he is likely to fall short of
faultless – there is no way to gently define love, without
successfully overlooking an indelible fragment of it. 

1.5 One could say what love is not, but even doing so he often loses
balance. It is easy to presume what love is or could be, but why is
one so sure, so undoubtedly convinced that to desire it is
fundamentally good and thus necessary? It is courageous, if you ask
me, to wish for that which you seldom experienced and felt in your
bones.

Many things are permitted in love, a gamble worth playing, and even if
one suffers defeat, one still bears within him the fullness of
experience, which is writ large expansion of consciousness.

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