When I watch the reels on Instagram I feel sad.
I often wonder how the world has become like this.
The Love Journey of Lakshmi
When I watch the reels on Instagram I feel sad.
I often wonder how the world has become like this.
‘What is this thing with Hedonism?’ I asked him.
He took something out of the fridge and walked back to the stove. He was cooking. I was sitting on a little stool, a glass of red wine was on the table.
I am surprised about some Love stories out there. Perhaps it is an algorithm I am catching, but I am receiving a lot of these Love stories on my feed. Not necessarily one specific feed.
Not complaining though. I am always intrigued about what there is out there when it comes to love.
It is not specifically one story that has been catching my eye lately. More over multiple stories and it gave me reason (for myself) to light my view over it.
For a long time I have wondered. ‘Did my father love my mother?’
It wasn’t a random question.
In relationships I always felt so in love with the other person. It wasn’t something that was painful.
I was loving secretly.
Many times I have thought Love starts when there is Trust.
‘If I can trust you blindly, I can love you blindly’.
And it didn’t come out of nowhere that I had these thoughts about trust and love. And connecting them together.
When coming from a relationship of lies, my first questions raised about this.
Not even stating what the effect of the lies had done to me.
Just the questions. Perhaps even a way for me to search for ground to experience love. Not even talking about true or genuine love. Real love. Just love in its essence.
But are trust and love connected? Do we need trust to be able to love?
‘They have a love and hate relationship’ is what I said.
‘We all know that love and hate are the same thing’, I continued.
My friend didn’t look convinced. However she did say something.
While she was still talking, I was thinking. ‘Is it really?’ ‘Are Love and Hate the same thing?’
I believe circumstances can lead to not doing something, or being capable of doing something. We speak of a block. When it comes to writing it is more obvious. But perhaps the circumstances are not always the reason for the block. Let me put it like that.
But I think a lot of people are blocked. In many ways. Even without the circumstances.
And even without knowing. Not only the ones that are facing the writer’s block.
I was thinking of myself. Of the things I was writing. Not specifically something.
Ok, maybe just something.
I was thinking of my love life. Is it possible to have a block in Love? Or perhaps even ‘A Lover’s Block?’
I don’t know if it is because of the new year or the month of January. That it is Winter and nothing is there or happening.
Winter, of nothingness.
That would actually sound like a nice name for a princess. Not intended as a joke, but sounds funny. It makes me laugh, I have to say.
I stared at the screen of my phone. I didn’t know what to think. ‘What had I just done?’
I wasn’t reading anything in particular. No books, no literature.
But when it comes to reading, I read of what my eyes are able to handle.
My mother couldn’t read and write. I don’t know if my dad was able to do so also.
I was too young when he slipped out of the world and I never had the chance to ask him. Perhaps something to consider.