In the name of Love
In the game of Love
In the fame of Love
In the frame of Love
In the blame of Love
In the shame of Love
I try to fit in to the same name to play the known game and share a little fame in the big frame while all along I am my own blame and my own shame!
For there is no such “thing” called Love, no “description” called Love, no feeling called Love
For something to call love is to separate it from it entirety and label it, isn’t it?
So is separated part called Love?
The Love that I call Love is another confinement, a refined confinement to fill myself with the idea, to live in the imagination of this idea
A comfortable idea per say that provides me with the fort of comfort and the hidden pleasure within this fort
In this idea, in this imagination that I have borrowed from the memory of the other and repeated unto myself, experiencing other’s memory
I live in this idea, hide behind this idea, Abide by this Idea
Is this idea Love?
I say I love you unconditionally, with no condition
Isn’t that another condition that i borrowed to study the rules of an unconditional condition of an idea called love?
Isn’t uncondition a condition, for another condition
I say, I love the world, “I love” everyone and “I want” every one to be happy, want every one to live in love
What is that which is common in all these statements? is it “I Want”, “I Love”, I this, I that?
Am i not satisfying “MY OWN WANT”
Even when I want good for them, isn’t it still my perception of my want of them that I am trying to satisfy within myself?
So How can I love someone else, when all I love is my own perception, my own image of my own idea of the other?
Is that Love?
So to satisfy this idea within me
I tag along, drag along and brag all along
I hide behind the tide to abide and confide
I become a strife to my very own grief
Walking in these perceptions of myself,
I become a deception to myself
A contradiction to myself
As I walk this path of addiction to satisfy my own satisfaction of my own restrictions
I make this my jurisdiction
Never to ask myself who is it that is within me that thinks about this notion of love to make it my motion of love
Where did I get this thought of love to begin with
For all my life, I have known of the known making it my known which was never my known
So I wonder if the so called idea of love that which is known in million different known’s called Love?