My Love Is Late

Something about me that some have trouble comprehending in general.

I don't believe in love.

Sure, people like each other, tolerate each other, and then care for each other, in given time. A logical progression that creates an emotional tether.

And I understand the magic behind maternal and paternal affection for children, I mean, those cute little babes were genetically designed to be adorable so they could be dependent on others to survive. (Ingenious, really!)

It's all quite biological.

I'm just a skeptic about this strange figment that floats about in peoples' fantasies and dreams.

Love at first sight? Merely physical attraction.

So where this brings me: arranged marriage.

Of course, everyone has their own perspective on the case, and if you're not one of those that has ever experienced an arranged marriage, whether first-hand or by knowing someone who has, I'm afraid your validity to what I'm going to confirm will make you upset.

I am wholeheartedly agreeable to the notion. (Although, of course, if it involves non-consent from both parties, or involves young'ins who don't have a choice, I'd be very vocal at the inappropriateness!)

But, after numerous consultations with myself to discuss the non-existent chance I will "fall in love" (ouch!), the idea of finding myself a match that is beneficial is perfect.

You'll notice, if you've been paying attention to my writing, that I do dabble in love in various forms. 

But I will make clear, this "love" is actually a perception of the character and the character's dreams and beliefs.

So to correct myself, love may be real, for those that believe in it. However in my case, I don't.

And life goes on, so my mother and I have decided to book a trip to Indonesia in the fall/winter to start a hunt (Ohh, how predatory.. :P) on men, of which I would choose.

And yes, I know, from countless accusations, I am taking this a bit too logical. 

But again, characters and personalities dictate dreams and beliefs.

Oh! And relationships! They will forever be my muse. :D 

::

Just a rant I've shortened after being questioned while discussing my plans with some close friends. This is probably a large chunk of my personality that comes out in my writing, so I thought I'd share it.

Hopefully this is insightful. If not, don't be concerned. 

I can't change what is already perceived, I suppose.

And again, personalities and characters. (I still adore them!)

Have an excellent day,

mera.

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Dreamscape

JournalWord: Finding a mother.

::

He can see the opening though the thinning trees, and launches himself towards the meadow.

He lands past the last of the shrubs and finds himself situated on the edge of the tall waving grass.

His eyes scan the tops of the flickering greens for her bobbing blonde head as he desperately tries to find her.

And there she is.

She's in the middle of the grassy sea, under the tall oak tree that reins this waving ocean. When she sees him, her smile breaks over her lips and welcomes him. Her smile tells him that she has been awaiting his arrival just as he's been anxious to see her. Very slowly, her arms open in front of her, almost reaching towards him.

He stiffens at the foreign gesture and he shifts suddenly, swishing his head side to side in a scan. When his eyes lock back to hers, he begins to understand that the gesture doesn't signal an intruder.

"Lucin," her voice calls. Then it clicks.

She has opened her arms in the form of a hug. His breath catches in his throat. She wants to hug him. He has seen others receive them from outside of his windows, but has never received one himself.

He instantly dashes across the field, through the wall of grass and wildflowers, and nearly flies into her arms. He wraps his long arms around her tiny waist, surprised at how delicate women are. His hands close over each other in his tight grasp. He suddenly realizes that she is so tiny compared to him, and he almost pulls himself away in fear of crushing her.

Her arms wrap around him as well and she pulls him closer, dismissing his thoughts of letting go. He clutches to her like she will disappear right then and there.

He loves the feel of her minuscule body pressed up against him.

It feels so right.

::

I detest long weekends.
They are a trap, I swear!
I had a list of all the things I was going to get accomplished or start.
But nope, the four day weekend is all, like, "Naaahh, this can wait until Monday night. You should totally do this instead! It's not a waste of time or distracting at all!".
Yeah, this is def happening right now.

Oh well. 
This is what happens when your motto for life is "Just say yes".
Definitely screwed. 
:D

mera.

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Endless

JournalWord: Beyond the black hole.

::

She dreams of lying on a hill on a fall night, grass blinking at the stars in sprinkled dew. She would be cold, and she’d shiver and shake at every rustle of the wind, but maybe, for once, she’d be happy and painless. 

It would be dark and quiet, as if the world was suspended on tight, thin wires, with only her light breath disturbing the peace. She would spend the night counting the shattered galaxies, the shimmering atmospheres, in whispers meant only for the moon. It would feel intimate and infinite, like a satisfied wholeness to one’s being. 

It’s a dream where she doesn't feel exhausted every time she inhales. It’s nothing more than a wish to reach out with steady hands and pluck the glitter before her. It’s a dream, an illusion, far beyond any point of reach, however, beyond her closed, bruised eyes, she’s stuck on a mattress that’s sucking her body into its collapsing foam. 

She would burst out crying every time it feels like her ribs are ripping through her skin when she breathes. There is no silence in her white washed room; the beeps and hush of alien machines would tilt and snap the wires of her suspended world and send it crashing into the other planets. 

Her whispers to the moon are unheard through the brick walls and sealed window. She just wants to fall into her sky, into the quiet constellations, and finally feel beautiful. She only wants to lie in the cold, and numb reality in a revolving, never-ending, silence.

::

I really want to know which stories you like, so please read and review :)
Awaiting your comments, 
Mera.

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