The Love Carnival

Of those things which tend to motivate our actions or inaction's what each of us considers painful is the most dominant, this is particularly true in cases of love. Love is the name we gave a beast which crosses our path and wrecks havoc in every direction, which momentarily, severely, and without compassion, forces us to feel another by way of our pains. We suffer from this other and from such labor love will conquer any sanity. Our actions quickly surrender and betray us, no thought is given to our condition, no secret is left untouched. Then the vortex of passion swims into our hearts, like a hurricane raining drops of acid upon our brains, and we are left naked to feel feelings without prime movers, without cause! Our skin abandons us and we become so sensitive that we sense the movement of the most distant star. Dominated by this we collapse into utter chaos to enjoy and contemplate what is insane, love.

Love is the one deity who can render everything powerless. When it enters into our lives nothing is sacred, nothing is too extreme, for nothing is more mighty that is, against the power of love. All reason is useless against it, instead we see reason developing arguments to justify the madness. Love comes exploits, explodes and destroys but it does this so gracefully that we feel good trough out the massacre. The essence of this love is feelings, for love is the victory of feelings, emotions, over all other realities. It is the epitome of emotion, the climax of a victory of feelings against the suppressing phenomena of reality. Love is the culmination of emotion which makes passionate love to itself and blanks the external world out. When love arrives everything else has to leave, for that moment feelings are going to have a festival of passions and emotions unlike any other, anywhere.

This is what we call love and it is a beautiful carnival which is full of life and color, toasting experiences beyond the senses; and permitting us the luxury of standing still while riding the big dipper. But loves force, its vigor comes quickly to an abrupt end and the fall through the most gargantuan void, inside of the esophagus begins to take place. For we might say that loves victory, begins to be conquered by reality and love struggles furiously not to stop the carnival. And while love is inside of this fight against its worst enemy, reality, it is not a pleasing sensation; which rushes through our bodies and brains, lasting eons longer than what was a very small moment of love. Emotion after emotion, feeling chasing feelings, bursting in the stratosphere and plunging to the ground at perpetual velocities to smash and crush and plaster hearts against brutal carnal reality! Ending with the horrendous pain that terminates lives and not just by death but also by the adoption of a new personality, which to the old one is an assassin.

But love is not always so fatal because it is also not so victorious or intense. Almost every time under the modern condition love is seduced before it acquires the vigor to pulverize reality with the armada of feelings. For those of us who love love it is a tragedy, while for others not as passionate it affords them the security of normalcy.

The reasons for the failures of love are, that we find enough inadequacies in feeling emotions to justify their suppression and that forbids us the capacity to genuinely love another human being. Loves most vital factor is that it has no capacity for living under constrains. In order to flourish love has to have freedom, and to blossom maximum freedom. This is why the unrestricted nature of love is so powerful and it is also why all love occurs by accident, it is unexpected, uncharted those are the only fertile grounds that favor love. With the many restrictions imposed upon us by the new world societies love can hardly find a crevice to blossom and instead those activities which thrive in the waters of suppression come to harvest: fears, the need for security, lack of faith and a pessimism based on that very reality which tortures any other possibilities! Surrounded by these parachutes the passions of love burn and blast out through the mouth of the volcano; with severe force which is fueled by a creative faith that sadly upon touching reality collapses on the side of the mountain and hardens, building a crust that is cold and lifeless. A slight tremble is felt as the continents drift apart and even though this is suspected to be a sign of life, it is instead the movement of the dead.

It is not fair to allow love only a conservative existence, it is like keeping the Tiger in a zoo, oh, I know we do it but is it humane? What good is the Tiger, Tiger, if those furious jaws are not expressing their passionate savageness in harmony with his paws! Sure we have the Tiger to watched but is that really a Tiger, does love have itself? No we may have allusions of the Tiger but we have not capture the Tiger! Every day the carnival of love begins to fade, its roots being unable to rest their torsos on the ground of conservative traditions; we are left with the noise of the laughter and the friction burns from collisions with the air. The humming bird allows the flutter of his wings to renounce a memory, which lingers with out permission from the seductive scream. Of the festival we have a memory which cynics, only cynics seem to hear and we are gifted with pretentious subsidies which claim to be related to the ancestral carnival. This mimicry has reached high above to be the epitome of destructiveness that is, now modern love is not a victory of feelings in the grand style of the agent carnival, but a victory for its oppressors who find a facsimile in the exuding odor produced by struggle; the odor of the dead smell, which smells of death.

And this fake love, this double of love, which imitates synonymously with cruelty a passion; exudes jealousy, possessiveness and manipulation. We call that love which is born of hate, of anxiety, not of passion but compassion which forms the solid matter of human excrement. But this twin of love, born of a different womb teases our emotions so they laugh while they cry giving us a reincarnation of the love we want to resuscitate. This apparition lures us to believe that we do not wish to hunt others as we arc the bow who's arrow has been deepened and contaminated in poisonous love. The aphrodisiac lures our sensations which nurture a hunger to love but the prime cause produces a placeboes love. Placeboes love or modern love disqualifies itself of being love by manifesting its possessiveness, which involve jealousy, hate and pain. In the love carnival when the climax occurs pain is foreign, hate is alien and possessiveness is in equivalent with nothingness for festive feelings know no restrictions, know not of concern. Jealousy is a tool of placeboes love to retain the slave, it is a whip which lashes out insecurity with in. While carnival love feels no security it does not feel insecure.

Placeboes love also finds it can hate the object of its love, love is hate. Ridicules double speak to justify what is impossible for love, the act of love to hate! For love eradicates hate into obviousness so that as the wild passions extricate pleasures the loved one gently sleeps, with life rendered useless during the exalting climax. The love one then quivers and reacts unhindered by movement. No harm arrives from love, for love feels everything and it is therefore incapable of harming itself! Carnival is unable to foster contradiction! Placeboes love also has another tragic side effect, it assumes a posture of control and considers itself able to injure and manipulate another human being. Which is another way of saying I am nothing without this thing which none the less I consider worthless! At many levels this is a large affliction in modern relationships, who have by some wonder forgotten that independence is a basic property of love, that freedom is the fermentation of love and that love takes to flight as soon as it feels oppression.

We can with out doubt say that another key principle of love is honesty, secrets from a loved one only indicate lack of love, inhibition, lack of trust. What good are any of your relationships if you do not feel comfortable telling your partner the most intimate of things, and don't come to me with explanations of individuality or independence love opens you up it makes you vulnerable, and if the love carnival fails then the lovers might seek to destroy each-other but only to erase something that can not be changed, to erase something that is immutable, for once you have shared in someone's life as love does only death or destruction can sever that knot. Only a perseverance to end a memory will endure! So thou ought to terminate this hell for love does not compromise! There are no rules in love, in fact love, true love, the love from our wonderful carnival encourages each to be what he or she is, and to be as much of it as possible. Two people in love do not hinder each-other instead they promote each-other to the limits. And that indeed entails complete acceptance and if you do not accept your partner then neither do you love him or her. And we love most that which makes us more of what we are even if that happens to be vampire bats! A love that hunts or guards is not love, we desire a love which is going to push our heart out into the open blue, away from the protection of our flesh; to scrape it with the edge of the clouds, thus causing the world around us to fade into complete obscurity, leaving us unable to tell if our eyes are open or closed, our eyelids useless and our fears living fearlessly!

Obviously this guy was an optimist but I felt he had said nothing different, just the same thing the others had spoken only with a twist to the positive, with more hope, with fervor for life and for the things that make life tolerable. Being that I was alive I was glad that he was the last that had anything to say on love. I asked Adriana if there were more for it did seem like the subject was incomplete but she told me that love was the least understood of the mad specialties, always to remain incomplete.

We moved on passing by some beautiful paintings of a very abstract nature, but unlike the ones I had seen at many museums on earth, infantile and incapable of reproducing even a simple emotion like fear, I knew that I could not reproduce these, that there was something deep, intense and original here which could not be reproduced.

I stopped in front of religious man, and I might first say that accepted that I didn’t know if there was or wasn’t a God, but I knew that I personally didn’t believe in God. So religion had not my devotion but only my speculative curiosity. I mean that from the perspective of everything and truth, God and Devil, same opposites, and here I probably knew which one was real; I had seen plenty of evil on earth and nothing of God, God if real, was the quintessential example of fatherhood in absentia. Religious man was as one pictures such a creature, to himself, ascetic, sterile, to some degree ugly, and that is all that I could say about him, to say more would be repetition of what I have already said, in a sense, if we judge religion by this one man, then religion and poverty of character might have more in common than we might wish to suspect.