What is love ? (2 Viewers)

meilz92

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yolanda are you in love?
 

misericordia

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love = caring for another person even if that means going separate ways.
 

vice lord

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Hope this answers your question:

'The conceptual nature of belonging demands that I verily attempt to define the cause of the provocation that I today endure. Such is the notion of innate serenity that it frequently contradicts its own testimonies: through its provision, one enhances world peace; yet during the struggle, one fends off the mongrels that condescend the effort. For by acquiescing to the society-enforced belief that conformity is of the essence, an already complex life becomes increasingly convoluted. Despite the induced anger, human narcissism forbids an embracement of this expectation: we are conditioned to escape from hardship, not to play soldiers with it. In that, I seek a hypocrisy so broad that it produces a paradox of intoxication, one that poisons man, his woman, and their creator, whether that be an omniscient being or omnipresent force. That is the only love, the fallacious love.

As the commencement of proceedings appears on my agenda, the significance of my insight would be inaccurately attributed to experience and prolonged discussion. Those factors are destiny in action, and fate mocks its victims by the misconception of knowledge. It allows the delusions of invincibility to cunningly smother, only retreating when there is no life lesson to be learnt. The fundamental denouement is that to trust another is to distrust one’s self; hence my ramble operates beyond the subjectivities of human emotion and within the objectivities of philosophical distinction. In doing so, I present the only truism available, that attempts at genuine feelings are in vain, and to destroy the ideal emotion would be to destruct all manifestations of a historical lie.

It is not the direct postulation of love which I faithfully despise, yet the aftermath of a rash decision that sees the burden of a lost love defying the natural physical laws. In the despicable hour that converts unison to conflict and compliment to critique, both exceed the threshold capacity for evil. Devils dance with demons and the fiddler’s tune never ceases. The optimistic lay their hopes in the avoidance of that hour, but destiny is the hour, and in that hour reaps the grim. Not intrusive is the negative air that surrounds the vehicles of vainglory, but disgusting is the dark that bears witness to their shame. And that shame is more socially fitting than the ideal itself, for its grail is immunity from personal gain.

Confounding as it stands, shame subverts from emotion in its endeavour to annihilate the ego rather than uplift it. Accordingly, belonging comprised of a shameful similarity is genuine but abstract, since heads turned towards the ground adopt anti-social characteristics. The belonging ideal attempts to taunt the ego, yet the ego is inexistent. Hence, ideal metamorphoses into ordeal and the condition remains unattainable. Ergo is the heresy annexing to the feeble mind: the psyche reaps disdain, weeping over the theft of hope and basing itself in wishes of a didactic experience. Death plays its role and knocks on health’s door, reciting depressive poetry. The victim conjoins pen and paper, enabling expressions of morbidity to flourish beyond rule. Reader and responder now resonates a reminiscent rendition. I.
How is one to act when devoured from within? Positive emotions elude positivism while pessimists smirk in loneliness. For power is dislocation, dislocation is the cold, cold is love’s foe. Love and hatred dichotomise in pleasuring deception and altruism respectively. Only I who retains the negativistic aura admit such. Now I implore, venture with me to Earth’s greater extremity, forming a residence of chill and gloom. There, we shall find our own love in that commonality of hatred.'
 

b00m

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Hope this answers your question:

'The conceptual nature of belonging demands that I verily attempt to define the cause of the provocation that I today endure. Such is the notion of innate serenity that it frequently contradicts its own testimonies: through its provision, one enhances world peace; yet during the struggle, one fends off the mongrels that condescend the effort. For by acquiescing to the society-enforced belief that conformity is of the essence, an already complex life becomes increasingly convoluted. Despite the induced anger, human narcissism forbids an embracement of this expectation: we are conditioned to escape from hardship, not to play soldiers with it. In that, I seek a hypocrisy so broad that it produces a paradox of intoxication, one that poisons man, his woman, and their creator, whether that be an omniscient being or omnipresent force. That is the only love, the fallacious love.

As the commencement of proceedings appears on my agenda, the significance of my insight would be inaccurately attributed to experience and prolonged discussion. Those factors are destiny in action, and fate mocks its victims by the misconception of knowledge. It allows the delusions of invincibility to cunningly smother, only retreating when there is no life lesson to be learnt. The fundamental denouement is that to trust another is to distrust one’s self; hence my ramble operates beyond the subjectivities of human emotion and within the objectivities of philosophical distinction. In doing so, I present the only truism available, that attempts at genuine feelings are in vain, and to destroy the ideal emotion would be to destruct all manifestations of a historical lie.

It is not the direct postulation of love which I faithfully despise, yet the aftermath of a rash decision that sees the burden of a lost love defying the natural physical laws. In the despicable hour that converts unison to conflict and compliment to critique, both exceed the threshold capacity for evil. Devils dance with demons and the fiddler’s tune never ceases. The optimistic lay their hopes in the avoidance of that hour, but destiny is the hour, and in that hour reaps the grim. Not intrusive is the negative air that surrounds the vehicles of vainglory, but disgusting is the dark that bears witness to their shame. And that shame is more socially fitting than the ideal itself, for its grail is immunity from personal gain.

Confounding as it stands, shame subverts from emotion in its endeavour to annihilate the ego rather than uplift it. Accordingly, belonging comprised of a shameful similarity is genuine but abstract, since heads turned towards the ground adopt anti-social characteristics. The belonging ideal attempts to taunt the ego, yet the ego is inexistent. Hence, ideal metamorphoses into ordeal and the condition remains unattainable. Ergo is the heresy annexing to the feeble mind: the psyche reaps disdain, weeping over the theft of hope and basing itself in wishes of a didactic experience. Death plays its role and knocks on health’s door, reciting depressive poetry. The victim conjoins pen and paper, enabling expressions of morbidity to flourish beyond rule. Reader and responder now resonates a reminiscent rendition. I.
How is one to act when devoured from within? Positive emotions elude positivism while pessimists smirk in loneliness. For power is dislocation, dislocation is the cold, cold is love’s foe. Love and hatred dichotomise in pleasuring deception and altruism respectively. Only I who retains the negativistic aura admit such. Now I implore, venture with me to Earth’s greater extremity, forming a residence of chill and gloom. There, we shall find our own love in that commonality of hatred.'
this my m8s is love
 

xmangx

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tl;dr

love is awesome and should be done.

pun intended
 

meilz92

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love can make you both insanely happy and smiley, but it can also make you cry and become depressed
 

xmangx

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thats not love, thats more to do with society.

if it makes you depressed it wasnt love to start off with
 

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