There is always a weakening sense when one realizes the presence of love. An absolute flush of cold enters the very deepest part of ones body and soul. Taking over any form or matter of light and dark, judgment and consequence. All blur into a pool of horrid wonder that is indescribable even to those who are experiencing the whirlpool of cupid's scheme. The most befuddling effect is the inability to reason or explain the marvel to one's shaky psyche. All verbal and thoughtful processes come to an almost complete halt when the issue is subconsciously or even consciously addressed. In hopes of making the waters any degree less muddied, people try to test and measure the extent of the affection coming from both sides of the relation. Consisting of endless toying and games of emotions that rarely end in anything other than a cracked spirit. In hoping to further understand the inexplicable, people tear apart the beautiful to find the logical. A painting's beauty has no urgent need to have a surface value beauty that can be listed; the same should go for something as invaluable as love. Granted that people's endless poking and prodding may result in the fact that the love was either one sided, or merely an infatuation with the idea, but wouldn't you think that some true love was broken into distrust over useless overworking and picking.
Why must everything be blatant or explainable in the human world? Even those things that should have no obligation to reality must have elements of connection, and truth. Fiction and the like have to always tie up into a completely logical and fixed web, even though the opposing reality is no where near as clear at any point in time. Reality's illusion in clarity is one of the many wonders of the world. Even when one's life seems transparently clear, there are looming evils underneath the surface waiting to arise, making all of this ironically unclear.
Dear me, I've gone and written a terrible rant on human nature and the imposition of fact and fiction. What has this world come to? When a girl such as I can make the indistinct awkwardly distinct.
Hopefully I won't be left thinking about the facts and opinions of a pointless and overworked subject for too long. Because in truth it will never become anything close to clear for anyone, and that my dear friends, is the absolute beauty of it.