Blog description:there are quite a few descriptive phrases used by various people to descripe life.
i think for me, at the current, it's 'choices and consequences' as when my parents attempted to explain what i did wrong before they punished me in high school, or when my teachers used the phrase so casually to convince me to not make the decision that i did.
well... i'm facing it.... the consequences of my decision. the plus side... i'm not running away from it. the minus side... curiosity could kill
My blog address: http://MillionaireMatch.com/blog/avaredrose
... what is reality? what is a dream? you know... the line between the two are almost as vague as death and live or hatred and love.
yes, i know... i know they're opposite... the dictionary said so... my mother told me that when i was very young. she explained (maybe because she thought i was too young to understand or too innocent to make out the facts) that opposite cannot be the same.
but which is which?
i'm sure at one point or another in our lives we have mistaken one for the other... the so called reality vs. dreams.
but... reality can be dreams, can't they? and... dreams... they can become reality... haven't they proven that to us already?
i meant the greatest of our kind. sciences is the proof of how marginally the line between the two are.
wasn't flying impossible and nothing but a crazy dream of an idealistic man at one point in our history?
what do we have now?
i think the line between reality and dreams has always been tested... and sometimes it's like an immovable status and other times... it doesn't exist.
so it comes down to our belief of what human limitations is.
do you think it impossible for us to manipulate our genes?
do you think it impossible for us to time travel?
do you think it impossible for us to erase our own histories?
where is the line drawn? not between reality and dreams but what is possible and what is not... through our own proofs.
so the next time you call someone's idea crazy or nothing but a dream in vain... remember that the idea of human flying was impossible at one point... and submarines were mere fantasies.
so don't insult an idea unless you have solid proof of what is possible and what is not... this thing people mistaken as dreams and realities.
once again i have prevail in rebelling against the idea of normality.
i almost even convinced him that it's entirely possible...
it's sad... because he's merely an entertaining experiment to me.
of course, after ward i told him that he was right and i was wrong but i had enough under my sleeves to pull off the joke, and i just proved to him that essentially he's wrong because we're both foolish in our beliefs that we know what is what and which is which.
Which is a wiser choice; to have never fallen in love and not know what it is or to have fallen in love and lost, left with a broken heart?
Perhaps the question is badly phrased. It is not the matter of "wiser choice," rather preferences. I surmised in order to fully make the decision that better shoots you, one has to go back and evaluate this with the general knowledge.
Some people spent their entire lives searching, always searching, for true love and never found. They will be disappointed and say that they have never known love. However, there are those who have fallen in love and say that to never known love is better.... Of course, this is quite unfair because they only say that through experience. Whether it be curiosity or yearning for that assumed (better put, widely agreed) wonderful feeling of falling in love or being in love makes a lot of people wanting to know what love is even with all the risks.
Personally I think it is better to have never known love. From my previous experiences... I have seen that love fade due to many circumstances, top of the list being that people change. A couple truly in love with each other married, have children, changed, and through the changes no longer recognize each other, the impossible distances cannot be cover, so they part. They were in love once but they have lost one another and themselves. Tragic but you see it more and more every day.
Let's see... how many people, claiming, have committed suicide as a result of a broken up left with a broken heart? I don't know the answer to this but the pain... I can understand. There are many challenges in life and painful scars as a result of this... some not erasable, this is one. One can move on with one's life if and only if he or she can find the means to do so from a broken heart but one never forgets and it always leave a mark. Now, I ask you this; no matter how wonderful the feeling of being in love is... it is worth it? The length of that temporary love compare to the times of the pain afterward that seems to last forever? The hole that it leaves in your heart? Unfortunately for some people, they never move on. Those are the one that succeed in taking their own lives. And how many people has deny it or bury it or closed the door to their heart forever? These people suffer even more than those that has literarily die. It is worth it?
True, you will miss out that wonderful feelings of being in love but you will also eliminate the sorrow that haunts afterward.
Of course, like everything else, I'm being cynical because there are rare (beautifully rare) cases in which "happily ever after" exist. But what are the chances?
Besides... the curiosity and the search for the answer in itself is, most of the time, worth more than the answer itself. The journey, not the destination that counts. So be curious, have fun running into what might have been love but save yourself the trouble.
Growing up, my mother taught me that it is better, if I ever love, to marry someone who loves me more than I can return the love. She said it is the best way to hold it and make it last. I thought it was selfish... and that love cannot be selfish. In my mind, there is only one more thing more selfish than love: suicide.
For those of you who think otherwise, I hope you have the best of luck when you find love. And it is all right because you have known something that I never will and because, once conquer, you have faced one of the most challenging thing in life; heartbreak. I applauded you.
However, Do not think that I'm a coward because I chose this path. Do not think that you are braver because you will take the risk. It is simply the choice of preferences. I rather not have what I might lose... unless I have the capacity to have it forever.
There are no merit for who is right or who is wrong here nor who is braver or who is coward. The only merit is the choice you make and how you face the consequences of your choice. Will you ever rise again if you should fall from the grace of love? Do you still consider me a coward when I refuse to try my happiness knowing I might be too weak to get up? What of you then? If you rise? If you fall... forever, then happiness will be lost too? In the end, if there be merit, it is who is happier with their choices. I'm happy with mine. What about you? Still searching? Then I hope you find, because it is the only way to know.
I should extent my pity toward all those who is uncertain. If one know, one can walk the path thoroughly rightly or wrongly. But at least one has walked it with a sense of knowing, believing, and confidence. This person may have the capacity to know, also, when reaching the end that he or she is wrong. The person who is right will be happy. But the uncertain. They might not know it, they might not understand it, and they might never will; but one has to pay the greatest price sometimes for being uncertain... almost always the most expensive of all.
oh, i don't get it! what kind of love it is? what madness made it so? stranger than strange? more incomprehensible than logic will ever be able to grasp. but what is logic when ones tries to make logic out of the illogical? what is reason when ones attempts to reason the unreasonable? then what notion of love is she talking about? it is love or hate? or is there a line between the two? is not love that turns into hatred that seeks revenge? or is it revenge? oh, the sweet taste of vengeance. how bittersweet thy be! and how treacherous! how evil! the core of the evil fruit!
or it is pride? is pride not the cause and the means and the ends of it all? or am i delusional myself to think that i know what i will never grasp? or it is how true love be? that it should take and consume a whole being and swallow it alive until there is nothing left but sorrowful tear drops and passionless hours of waiting... just waiting.
so it comes to this, is obsessive love consider love at all? or it is a disease? and is not all love obsessive? look at the way love is define... the way it is used... the way it is expressed... and look closely at the definition of the so called "obsessive love" do you not think it is the same?
"I don't know. I don't want to believe anything. I don't want to see too much. Who suffers in this world? Those who lack something? No. Those who have something they should lack. A blind man can't see, but it's more impossible not to see for one whose eyes are too sharp. More impossible and more of a torture. If only one could lose sight and come down, down to the level of those who never want it, never miss it."
So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the face of civilization, artificially creates hells on earth, and complicates a destiny that is divine, with human fatality; so long as the three problems of the age--the degradation of man by poverty, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the dwarfing of childhood by physical and spiritual night--are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible; in other words, and from a yet more extended point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, books like this cannot by useless.
i don't know when it started... if there was such a thing as a starting point that i missed.i don't know how or why i was the way i am. being the only daughter, i surmised i knew a lot was expected of me. at the beginning before my existence, i was wanted more than anything. i knew i was wanted. a daughter that my father always wanted and my mother always dreamt of. they have sons but they wanted a daughter. i was spoiled rotten even though we were poor. i was their blessing, their hope, and their joy: their only surviving daughter. i have very few recollections of my childhood memories as many of us but my youngest memory... my younger brother and i always fight over toys and my oldest brother was on his side while my second oldest brother was my defender. my oldest brother preach selflessness and he sacrifice most of his life so far for our family so you can understand where he comes from. they (second and oldest brother) would argue a lot over us. "he's younger, he should get the toy." "no. they toys were hers. she has the right to it or lend it to him as she pleases." "but she's too young to understand that she should give it to him." "no, she doesn't want to. she made her decision. she wants to play with it." "she's selfish because she doesn't understand love." "here you go again! do you think she doesn't know?" "how could she? she's two!" "she knows. they know who they love and who they don't. they know who loves them and who doesn't. watch this."
my second oldest brother said something to me, i hesitated but handed him the toy. he handed it to my youngest brother and he went off some where playing with it. my second brother turned back to me and said something and all i remembered was that i smiled and i was satisfied.
the story were told to me many times by my parents of their conversations and argument. it all reminded me of Hobbs and Locke's theory.
so i guessed two. that's where it began. This crusade of "i need you to do this..." "we need you..."
then childhood innocence became vague memories as i was forced to mentally age faster than my body.
i learned the reasons why i was wanted... i was wanted because i was needed. i was borned with a certain expectation and role to furfilled.
every guy i ever met so far "needed" me in one way or another. financially or mentally or worse... emotionally. i was eithr the friend that they can go to in desperaged need of money (because i'm financially responsible) or the woman who helped them grow up (a job not easily filled) mentally. the worst part is emotion. i can handle immaturity pretty well and financial sitiation comes and goes depending on the person but emotion is like a never ending nightmare. he has a fight with his girlfriend, who does he turns to? his best friend, the girl next door. it's easier to watch a boy cry than a man weep. maybe because the boy grow up eventually and he grows stronger but the man is weeping because... he grew weaker. the backward process of progress is never fun to watch.
maybe it's my fate to run into weak pathetic men... or boys who is still trying to grow up... if they ever will. for once... i wanted to be wanted. wanted just because i'm me.i've always been 'needed' because i'm me. but just once... i don't care if it's a day or an hour... i just want to be wanted. i'm tired of being their savior. i don't want to be a hero. i want to be free. i wan to be me. the worst thing i have ever heard in my entire life was said by a man i thought i could fall in love with: "you're my hero. you came at the right time, i needed you. i feel so unworthy of you at this point."
needed was in the past tense. Hero he said. why it is that i always have to be the strong one, the brave one? i'm the woman... aren't i suppose to be vulnerable and weak?
maybe that's my fear, if you're wanted, you'll last longer but if you're needed... you're only important until you're no longer "needed."
there is a time limit... or a limit to how much you're needed... then it always run out.
i've lived my life so far furfilling my parents' wishes because they needed me for this and that... but i wonder... if i ever just stop... just say no... would they stop loving me? if not then... will their love for me deminishes? love doesn't expire... at least not real love... but needs does. do they only love me because they need me? or do they love me because i'm me? the last time i did something against their wishes... they were going to disown me....
to be wanted simple because they love me is different than to be needed because of a situation or a their desire.
"So you think that money is the root of all evil?"
"Have you ever asked what is the root of money? Money is a tool of exchange, which can't exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Money is not the tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears, or the looters, who take it from you by force. Money is made possible only by the men who produce. Is this what you consider evil?"
"When you accept money in payment for your effort, you do so only on the conviction that you will exchange it for the product of the effort of others. It is not the moochers or the looters who give value to money. Not an ocean of tears nor all the guns in the world can transform those pieces of paper in your wallet into the bread you will need to survive tomorrow. Those pieces of paper, which should have been gold, are a token of honor--your claim upon the energy of the men who produce. Your wallet is your statement of hope that somewhere in the world around you there are men who will not default on that moral principle which is the root of money. Is this what you consider evil?"
"Have you ever looked for the root of production? Take a look at an electric generator and dare tell yourself that it was created by the muscular effort of unthinking brutes. Try to grow a seed of wheat without the knowledge left to you by men who had to discover it for the first time. Try to obtain your food by means of nothing but physical motions--and you'll learn that men's mind is the root of all the goods produced and all the wealth that has ever existed on earth. But you say that money is made by the strong at the expense of the weak? What strength do you mean? It is not the strength of guns or muscles. Wealth is the product of man's capacity to think. Then is money made by the man who invents a motor at the expense of those who did not invent it? Is money made by the intelligent at the expense of the fools? By the able at the expense of the incompetent? By the ambitious at the expense of the lazy? money is MADE--before it can be looted or mooched--made by the effort of every honest man, each to the extent of his ability. An honest man is one who knows that he can't consume more than he has produced. To trade by means of money is the code of the men of good will. Money rests on the axiom that every man is the owner of his mind and his effort. Money allows no power to prescribe the value of your effort expect the voluntary choice of the man who is willing to trade you his effort in return. Money permits you to obtain for your goods and your labor that which they are worth to the men who buy them, but no more.
Centennial Edition, ATLAS SHRUGGED by Ayn Rand passage taken from page 380 to page 381.
"Did it ever occur to you that it's the same issue? the men who think that wealth comes from material resouces and has no intellectual root or meaning, are the men who think--for the same reason--that sex is a physical capacity which functions independently of one's mind, choice or code of values. They think that your body creates a desire and makes a choice for you just about in some such way as if iron are transformed itself into railroad rails of its own volition. Love is blind, they say; sex is impervous to reason and mocks the power of all philosophers. But, in fact, a man's sexual choice is the result and the sum of his fundamental convictions. Tell me what a man finds sexually attractive and I will tell you his entire philosophy of life. Show me the woman he sleeps with and I will tell you his valuation of himself. No matter what corruption he's taught about the virtue of selflessness, sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts, an act which he cannnot perform for any motive but his own enjoyment--just try to think of performing it in a spirit of selfless charity!--an act which is not possible in self-abasement, only in self-exaltation, only in the confidence of being desired and being worthy of desire. It is an act that forces him to stand naked in spirit, as well as in body, and to accept his real ego as his standard of value. He will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permit him to experience--or to fake--a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value, will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strangest, the hardest to conquer--because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement, not the possession of a brainless slut. He doesn't seek to... What's the matter?"
"He does not seek to gain his value, he seeks to express it. There is no conflict between the standards of his mind and the desires of his body. But the man who is convinced of his own worthlessness will be drawn to a woman he despises--because she will reflect his own secret self, she will release him from that objective reality in which he is a fraud, she will give him a momentary illusion of his own value and a momentary escape from the moral code that damns him. Observe the ugly mess which most men make of their sex lives--and observe the mess of contradictions which they hold as their moral philosophy. Love is our response to our highest values--and can be nothing else. Let a man corrupt his values and his view of existence, let him profess that love is not self-enjoyment but self-denial, that virtue consists, not of pride, but of pity or pain or weakness or sacrifice, that the noblest love is but born, not of admiration, but of charity, not in response to values, but in response to flaws--and he will have cut himself in two. His body will not obey him, it will not response, it will make him impotent toward the woman he professes to love and draw him to the lowest type of whore he can find. His body will always follow the ultimate logic of his deepest convictions; if he believes that flaws are values, he has damned existence as evil and only the evil will attract him. He has damned himself and he will feel that depravity is all he is worthy of enjoying. He has equated virtue with pain and he will feel that vice is the only realm of pleasure. Then he will scream that his body has vicious desires of its own which his mind cannot conquer, that sex is sin, that true love is a pure emotion of the spirit. And then he will wonder why love brings him nothing but boredom, and sex--nothing but shame."
so men want to know women and women want men... but do they really want to be understood? personally i would tell any man to just give up on me... because i'm way too complicated to be understood... and it's not like it's intentional... i don't understand myself at times. we're just illogic creatures by nature and men are just creature who are logically simple. that is one gap i'm glad to say i'll never try to close. but that's what makes the world interesting. imagine a world in which man can read woman's mind? can you see... the madness you would be in? i can. measuring a man's heart... don't try just look at the way they look at you. measuring a woman's heart?
you're swimming in open ocean... good luck.... or am i just being cynical?