Plato, You Just Defined my Whole Lovelife

One day, Plato asked his teacher, “What is love? How can I find it?”

The teacher answered, “There’s a large wheat field in front. Walk there without turning back, and take just one leaf. If you can find one leaf that you think is extraordinary, it means you have found love.”

So Plato walked…and not long after that, he came back empty-handed.

The teacher asked him, “Why, you don’t bring any leaf?”

Plato said, “I can only bring just one leaf and when I walked through the wheat field I can’t turn my back. Actually I have found one extraordinary leaf, but I don’t know whether there’s any other leaf more extraordinary, so I didn’t take that leaf. When I walked further, I realized that the leaves I found are not as extraordinary compared to the leaf I’ve found earlier in my walk. In the end, I didn’t take any single leaf.”

Then the teacher told him, “So…that is love.”

Puncture

Like a ray of sunlight, you punched through a crack in my tightly-closed window.
I have learned to like the darkness, and I have lost my desire for warmth.
I wanted you and I did not. I wasn't really sure.
All I know is that, upon your touch,
Like a sunflower,
I looked up.


In my feeble attempt to capture what you incite within me, I wrote these.

Late Night Nausea

Last night, my sister told me about a private video of a famous and supposedly wholesome comedian. I was initially doubtful that someone like him will do such a horrid act but the video said it all. He was having sex with a dancer. And he's married.

I am no stranger to documented sexual acts; i have seen some, that much I can admit. But I have never felt this apalled. I honestly wanted to throw up afterwards. The act was just so repulsive. I didn't even see them kiss passionately. It was totally devoid of affection. The way they have magnified how casual people seem to take the act of lovemaking nowadays was just very disappointing. I've now lost every strand of respect I had for that man.

I'm not playing saint here. I'm actually more on the bitch's side of the fence. It's just so infuriating how some men would regard sex as merely a carnal instinct that needs to be appeased by shagging just any woman. That's the greatest bullshit ever. The second greatest bullshit is that women stupidly mistake this for appreciation of their beautiful physique and so they consciously let these men defile them.

In his book Eleven Minutes, Coelho struggles to understand the clamor for sex when, technically, the whole feeling of pleasure transpires for only eleven minutes. It has never lasted for a lifetime. So why do we let our whole lives be ruled by something that is very transitory?

I have never been conservative in my beliefs nor do I readily conform to the conventions of society, but I still would like to believe that there is more to the sexual act than simply the need to satisfy an urge. What we sometimes fail to realize is that sex is the ultimate expression of romantic love. And because to love is to see the face of God, it is also a way of communing with The Maker.

More than an act, it is the fusion of the souls. That perhaps may be the reason why when the act is done in the context of love, it hurls you to a different plane, as if you're being propelled to another dimension, to somewhere otherworldly. I hope that when people make love, they won't use their bodies because it is cunning and is sometimes blinded by desire. I hope that they would make love instead with their souls, because nothing ever beats that experience of total surrender when you completely trust, love and respect the person you are making love with.

Hey Pherick ;)

I asked you to give me a ring.

There were men after you who gave me rings similar to yours which I had lost somewhere or unintentionally tossed in the trash. I say similar because these were rings that were given to me out of your need to box me into your little self-woven worlds. To me, it was like putting a collar around a dog's neck for people to know that somebody already owns it. I am not surprised at all that these rings have tarnished over time or have been lost forever just like the relationships that produced them.

I don't remember asking for any of them to be put around my finger. It has always been you and the rest of you who decided on these things. Not me. Well, not until today.

Today, I asked for a ring, not because I would like to be identified as someone's possession but because I would like to remember all the time that you didn't just happen. You were chosen.  You were my decision. And every decision one makes entails commitment. I would like to be reminded that you didn't impose yourself on me; you are back in my life because I wanted you to be.

If you would ask me if I really would like that ring, my answer would always be 'yes'. I don't want anything extravagant. Any simple ring would be enough.

Last night, I was thinking if I acted on impulse. Was it the wine? Or the daiquiri? I guess not. I was praying all the time. Part of me would like to respond to your I-love-yous but the other was just so scared i'd only hurt you again. I know myself well. If I want something, I would demolish anything that stands in my way. The last thing I want is to break you again after you have done your hardest to put yourself back. I am not sure if I deserve your love. I would like to love you, but I do not know any safe means to do it, as if safety and security exist in love.

I have always known that you were the person God sent. For a time, I forgot that. But thank you for always coming back to remind me. Thank you for consistently turning yourself into the right person for me. I will not make any promise, but last night, the scene that I have always imagined in my head, the glass-stained windows, city lights and the person I love--they happened. And something tells me that I would like to do that forever.