Love, at its deepest and purest form, is a monologue. I come to this conclusion based on a long-held conviction that love is selfless, without expectation. Like a monologue that does not expect a response, we love because we love and not because we expect to be loved.

We love because it is the simplest, purest form of a selfless state of self-expression. We love because we accept the “what is” of the Universe; without reservation, without judgement. Love is not a projection of our desires, wants, or even needs on the external word; love is the very inverse whereby we absorb the as-is of this Universe, allowing it to be whatever it needs to be.

In some very weird ways love is even a reversed monologue; in this one might infer that love is a form of listening. But it is not merely passively listening; it is ingesting and absorbing and incorporating and integrating the world around us into ourselves. And once this integration is complete we reflect back this — an empathetic understanding — to the outside world.

These many entries found herein are written openly to anyone–you–who wishes to listen. I have no reservations that few read my words. It is enough that I write what I believe. It is additive and precious that some may read and even respond. But I also write to a very specific person: You, if you are that you. It is enough that I love the way I do. The former is of the more literal and literary sense of a monologue, the latter more of the sense of this very entry. As with this entire site, I write as much between the lines as I do on the lines; I write as much to you and to You. In both cases we have a monologue void of expectations of a response from you or You.

I go to knock on doors neither knowing or expecting you or You to open them.

I write words neither knowing or expecting you or You to listen.

I love you neither knowing or expecting you or You to love me.

But I knock; I do.

But I write; I do.

And I love; I do.

We should caveat, as always that this is what I believe love is, this is who I believe I am.

EXIT stage left.

Author: Ward

I’m the creator and operator of this little corner of the internets, writing on all things related to art and more specifically my experiences trying to figure this whole thing out. I guess I’m trying to figure out life, too, but mostly I just post about art here.

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