Of Being Weird Enough to Talk of Love

Love

Love. A clichéd title, innit? But after touring through more than a century of love stories, including those unbearably overly romantic rom-coms, I have unfortunately been bugged by the unfailing curiosity for one question, which I always seem to look for in these books, maybe thats why they intrigue me so much - that what is love that makes people so stupid, or so clueless to make them sacrifice the grandest schemes of things; and to fight for the smallest ones.

And after thorough mind searching, I came to realize this is not a question I seek, but rather a quest for justification. A method, or a reason to explain the things we do in our daily lives. Why I will curse my dad (in my mind, of course) for making me skip my things to help at home, and then get furiously angry when after a whole day of work, he asks to pick him up from a place rather off my route; but get rather a strange sense of relief and joy when I see him at the end of the day no matter how busy I am.

Why when my "perfectly innocent" sibling asks for something that's precious to me; I'll say no a hundred times, but end up giving it anyways, aware that its safety will be jeopardized.

This nature of events never has any fix consequences, or constant decisions. All we know, is that in our subconscious there is something crazy that looms in our minds, and rules our hearts - something to make us protective over the littlest of things, and forgiving for the largest ones. That helps us to view beauty in the most insignificant leaps, makes us intelligent at most important times, and inculcate a dynamic sense of power and motivation to keep moving on.

Spin love, and you get evol. Does that make sense? No? Well neither does love. So grab your seat belts and jump on the evol train. Until then, I'll skim around the world of romedies till someone assists me understand evol.