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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A Drop For A Bottle

JournalWord: Catching teardrops.

::

"A teardrop from the heartless," he whispers with a satisfied smile as he corks the tiny bottle and pockets the glass bottle into the confines of his leather jacket, over his chest.

He starts a leisurely pace out of the shadows of the alley, not a glance or hint of concern at the slumped body perched against the grimy alley wall.

She doesn't move, allowing her tears to collect into a pool in the hollow of her lap. Her hair is now a mess of tangles from where her hand had dug itself a nest to keep from grasping at the truth. Her chest swells as his footsteps echo, almost soundlessly, leaving her behind, as if he hadn't exposed her secrets and flaws, and she curses.

Not a hex touches him, and he grins, having found another addition to his collection.

::

Something super short that I added to a collab on Protagonize :)

He collects teardrops on various emotions and people, going to whatever means to extract the specific teardrop, even using cruel methods to shatter hearts.

On another note, I was extremely busy the last couple of days playing paparazzi for my brother's graduation! :D I'm so proud of my little brother and his accomplishments! 

(And yes, I do have a brother complex.. on both of my little brothers :P)

Keep bubbly!

Mera.

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