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You banished me from the coldness of your embrace. Despite my begging and suffering, as I tore my ragged clothes in desperation, you showed no mercy and gave me none. My knees were grated and grazed from the harsh ground on which they stood. However, you, oh cold statue named Love, pointed your accusing finger at me, crowning my heart with thorns while exclaiming, "You, my child, the one who denied me! You, the one who refused my embrace! You ungrateful creature! You shall now wander the moors with pain in your heart and inhabit the shadows of my Love!" Despite the harrowing circumstances, my squirming soul persisted, and with what was left of my heart, I endured the pain. My teary, blurry vision became the prelude to new perceptions. But that was it, for I was scarred. I am scarred. I will be scarred, and no words, neither from that statue of Love nor yours, will provoke a change in the way things are. I have walked the moors, wept, and wailed throughout the vastness of the

An idea arises; it pops in your head. Thoughts spring from it, either evolving into reality or dwindling until they perish. The same applies to the comprehension of a notion. It surfaces in our minds only to be eventually shelved, either due to irrelevance or because it has previously been contemplated without yielding results. There exists a certain element of creativity and thoughtful discussion that stimulates our capacities and skills in this creative process of thought. It is a captivating endeavor to contemplate, for instance, a philosophical idea, along with its utility, repercussions, and the potential results we may achieve. However, a more formidable question looms: Has this new "idea" already been conceived by someone else? My point is straightforward. I believe that a lot, if not everything, has been said and thought of, and we continue to grapple with the same unanswered questions and notions. Queries such as "Why are we here?" "What's my purpo

I have spoken to myself, I have read extensively, and searched tirelessly, yet I have found nothing. Within my complexity, I wander and, at times, I easily get lost. My mind seems futile in matters of the heart, as it appears to possess a life of its own. I advise my heart, 'Do not feel that way, for surely, you will lose that battle. Do not expel the fumes of a volcano, as its lava will turn you into ash.' Unfortunately, my heart disregards my counsel, provoking my rationale to stir with irritation at its core. It seems one cannot live without the other. Yet, it would be easier if only rationale persevered in the minefield of life that we navigate. Certainly, my dominion over my emotions is scarce when powerful feelings take a predominant role: love and hate. Falling in love makes the heart awfully weak, and, of course, rationality suffers from its poison. Thought processes seem affected, leading to poor decision-making, confusion, and the worst of all: vulnerability. At this