In a Blind World

I find it interesting that when you show your beauty to someone, love tends to follow. 

          It's all so simple. 

Many people find it hard to see the beauty in others objectively. They view the world with blinders, and only see what they are shown. But there is so much more to the pretty faces and to the broken souls you see painting the scene around you. 

When someone is "blind" to the world, they rely on people to show it to them, to help them realize. So when someone shows them who they are--and shares a piece of themselves--it’s easy for "the blind" to misinterpret it for love. When you’re someone like me who sees the beauty in everyone. . . in every scarred wrist, fucked up mind, misfit, outcast. . . It’s easy to know the difference. I can appreciate, rather than claim.

Romantic love--when you take away the miles and miles of alluring poetry written about it and the "profound" meaning this tired, uninspired world has given it--can be boiled down into two explanations. Romantic love is merely lust or a temporary infatuation. It's as simple as that. Yet these days it seems no one can leave it alone. When they are shown the beauty in someone, they mistake it for love and begin to chase and to try to hold on to something that never belonged to them in the first place. . .

People cling to the beauty they are shown because they fail to see it within the rest of the world. 

Have you ever noticed the girl sitting alone on the couch at the party while everyone dances around her? Or the boy telling lies because he can’t accept his own truth? Have you ever taken a moment to look around you and to steal a second out of someone else’s life? To appreciate their unfiltered, un-presented beauty without corrupting it with your own selfish agenda?

Those who are blind choose to capture the beauty they’ve been shown. Rather than to appreciate and learn from it, and to set it free. 

See, romantic love is a trap. It inhibits, holds, and ties down the beauty in people that was never meant to be taken. People are selfish, and they want to capture what they cannot see in themselves. 

Possessiveness is an evil in itself; it's selfish and corrupting, yet our ideals of romantic love revolve entirely around exclusivity and ownership...

I suppose love is important--but love is a dangerous game I find myself constantly questioning my participation in.