What we try to be

Every time the idea of love is disproved, a part in me cries. Every time a Jane Wilde separates from a Stephen Hawking. It is a concept we have made ourselves, yet one which seems so divine. Such failures remind me that I am only human. Such concepts are beyond us. They’re too pure to be believed to be a reality. Just such high expectations, yet it breaks our heart when we fail. Why do we assume it is possible in the first place? It was a romantic dream of the guy who first started it, but then why does it so instinctively appeal to everyone? Maybe we want to believe we are great. Many of us reach the perfect life, perfect love, maybe that is by just coincidence. Many of us get close to proving it but when they fail, they fall hard. It hurts them, hurts the entire humanity.

You keep fighting till the end. You don’t want to lose. You want to believe it is possible. It shocks you that you failed while, ironically, it was actually highly likely you would.

As though you are playing a game and representing team humans. And when you lose, the cheering hushes in a moment. You turn and slowly walk back to the dugout. And say, “Sorry, I am just a human”. Maybe in a self- fulfilling prophecy.

Convenience is reality. It is impure, reachable and well, convenient. We have a 60 years in hand. Convenience lets us have the short term joy for the short life.

Purity is penance. I don’t know if its human nature to dislike penance or whether time is genuinely too short to have it all- pain of purity and joy of convenience. Can there be joy in purity? Is pain not necessarily bad?

Why cannot we part with this gruesome battle to be ideal where many lives are lost?

Why can’t we make peace with our freckles?

It hurts if we do, it hurts if we don’t.

Anyway, here’s a bit of Daft Punk to mull over it…

1000 lonely stars

Hiding in the cold

Take it, oh I don’t wanna sing anymore


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