The yearning, The desire. It's hard to tell if it is a selfless pursuit or a selfish endeavor. I never understood the great emotion being confined to a few words. Sometimes it's just the pleasantness of the union. Sometimes it's the pain of separation. Every other emotion feels like a by-product of that. It devolves into something evil the moment it's not about people but things.
In its presence, all things sweet don't feel the same always. And all sad things don't stay the same. When it is understood deeply, pleasure will never be in taking, but in giving. It is what gives comfort even inside a prison of our own making. It is the warmth in one's association. It is also the warmth of one's tears flowing down on their cheeks on farewell. Is there somewhere that it isn't there. I don't need to celebrate it particularly if I cherish it every day in one form or another. What it symbolizes neither changes for anyone nor anything. It is misinterpreted by the majority. It is a journey, where we start by confining to someone and then start showering it on every living entity.
It is an offering, an effort, a gift. No map holds the way to its treasure. It's never a belief. It is either known or not known yet. It's a whirlpool into oneness.
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