Truth. Freedom. Beauty. Love.

Bohemian pillars of belief.

Idealistic notions,
borne of a time when humanity
embraced the underlying virtues
that were the bedrock of all
that was good in this world.
Truth. Freedom. Beauty. Love.
*sigh* Where have you all gone?
Why have you disappeared,
oh pillars that I have believed in

for the better part of 23 years?

Have you deserted me now,

when my faith, my belief in

idealism is at its weakest?

My eyes are almost dry now.

I can feel the streaks

they have left on my cheeks.

Downwards, they went,

burrowing a furrow

through my layered being,

piercing me to my core.

Unbidden. Uninvited.

Coarseness rubbing up against

the gentle fragility of my weary soul.

They serve a biological function, no doubt.

But I just think it's God's way of letting you know,

without any shadow of a doubt,

what you are feeling,

at that very moment.

I hate them, and love them at the same time.

I love the fact that they portray the honest me.

And I hate them for that fact too.

I love them because they are at times, my only outlet.

Again, I hate them for that very same reason.

I embrace my tears, and shun them.

And that is the fundamental

simplicity of the ideal of Truth.

We look for it, yet find ourselves afraid to embrace it.

We revel in it, yet feel the pinch of its consequences.

And have the audacity to complain about it afterwards.

Truth has always been impactful.

Either in the here and now,

or further down the line.

Be it painful, or otherwise.

The lesson? Simple.

We can never run away from what is true.

Turn around. Embrace it. Deal with it.

It is always better, than pretending it is not there.

The trials of today will serve you

in better stead for tomorrow.

And you will never outrun pain.

Never.

We mollycoddle ourselves with the safety nets

we put up for contingencies that

may or may not affect our lives.

Insurance schemes. Refunds. Warranties.

God parents. Wills. Maps. Directions.

Handbook Guidelines. Laws.

All are restrictions. All are barriers.

Barriers to what? To freedom.

True freedom.

Freedom, absolute true Freedom,

scares the shit out of humanity.

Imagine yourself alone. In the middle of a forest.

No mobile phone. No wallet. No map. No directions.

Nothing. Just you. What are you?

Marooned, obviously. All alone. Trapped.

With no rescue forthcoming,

nor any sense of where to even begin.

Yet within this sphere of your own existence,

you are FREE. Free to go where ever

your legs can take you,

where ever your mind wants you to.

You are not bound by your identity card

to stay on that piece of land.

You are not bound by laws

that say you cannot cut down a tree,

and make some space for yourself.

You are not bound by the constraints

that people around you would impose.

You can be as loud as you want,

whenever you want.

You are free, from the hope of rescue.

You are free, from being dependent on other people.

That is what Freedom is.

The freedom, to be yourself.

Doesn't that scare you?

To be free, absolutely, unabashedly,

irrefutably free, is to be alone.

Yoda famously said, Luminous beings we are.

Not this crude matter.

Souls, as you would call them.

Everything else in life, is artificiality.

Nature, is artificiality.

Thnigs that are not made by man's hand,

are in themselves, artificial.

Constructed, put together,

built, grown. It does not matter.

They are artificial. How so?

Because they are made up of other things.

They are not what they originally were.

And anything that has been changed

from what it originally was, is artificial.

Glorious sunsets.

Gigantic mountain ranges.

Sprawling green forests.

Beautiful, are they not?

But they are not true beauty.

Beauty has often been said

to come in many forms.

As the saying fondly goes,

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But who is the 'beholder' exactly?

Each and every individual?

You? Me? None.

For we are all the same.

Humanity is the 'beholder',

for we all 'see' beauty the same way.

True beauty transcends any boundary.

Any. Boundary.

Be they literary. Physical.

Cultural. Economical. Genetic. Conditioning.

When we see a sunset, and say it is beautiful,

it is not mere colours nor our lone Star

that brings us to this profound realisation.

It is the soul of what we see.

When you look into the eyes of someone you love,

is he beautiful? He is, isn't he?

And you knew it, without even

needing to see the rest of him.

The word 'beauty', and all its other forms,

have been abused and bloodied in spirit and meaning.

We have come to associate beauty

with what we can tag with our eyes,

with merely what our sight can tell us.

But doesn't true beauty transcend anything, and everything?

You will know beauty when you see it.

You will know beauty when you feel it.

Touch it. Understand it.

And to do that, must we not embrace

the truth of our own lies?

Cut ourselves free of our own inhibitions?

Once you realise that beauty

is so much more than we could ever hope for it to be,

then you will have taken your first steps

into a world far removed from the one you live in now.

A world of love.

Love is neither pain, nor suffering.

Neither is it joy, or happiness.

Love does not entail trust,

nor does it encourage jealousy and suspicion.

Love is not appreciation, nor care.

Neither is it sacrifice, or risk.

It is not anything, nor any single one thing.

All these things, they are the artificiality of human emotions.

The constructs of human minds.

Grown from our dying need to use words

on everything we have.

The love we are so fond of describing,

and so outward it may seem in appearance, is a lie.

And we are guilty of propogating it beyond measure.

Truth. Freedom. Beauty. Love.

I don't understand any of them.

But I believe.