Saturday 5 January 2019

To Ezra

I've been reading a bit about how drama originated, you know I have a thing for beginnings and first times, and I think of literature, and how it began. And because to me, literature and love are more or less interchangeable; one thing leads to another and I am thinking of the first two people to fall in love with each other in the history of mankind. Do you think the concept of love existed then? Did language even have the word love in it yet? Because as much as I love literature, as much as I love poetry, there's something beautiful about having no words, no language to describe your love; the frustration, the ache in one's bones to express something unearthly, something at the time they didn't even understand, didn't even know existed. It's enchanting to even think of. I am actually quite jealous of those two people because imagine feeling this thing which you have absolutely no explanation for, towards this one person out of all people in the world. This thing that makes you want to touch them, or look at them, or just hear them breathe. Then imagine touching this person for the first time, I mean, do you see what I am talking about? Because hell, this would the richest version of love that existed, not your first love, but _the_ first love. One more thing about love, I've always wondered how people know they're in love, and now I think I've figured it out. It's silence. Yes. Not just any kind of silence, because any two people who are comfortable with each other's existences can be comfortable with silence. I think there is a kind of silence that's exclusive to people in love, a silence that feels like poetry, even though there is no poetry whatsoever. Your mind is blank, you're not thinking of something poetic, in fact, you might not even be thinking at all. But the silence embraces you with a feeling that only poetry can grant you. And this is when you know you're in love.

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