the dance of the ink riddled fingers

weak hearts, small life, bland colours – poor form, humanity, poor form.

Posted in epiphany tiffany, pin the tail on the love, thought spills by enisea on 22/06/2012

I don’t think either of us really visualised what we said we’d do. Scrounging his car for paper (because for once I didn’t bring my well-equip bag), we managed to find relatively blank spaces on one page in some magazine, and tore five pieces from it.  After bouncing ideas off each other in a brief brainstorm we wrote few words on each tear of magazine and drove to the sheltered car park nearby. The metal inhabitants were few and we, like guilty children, pointed to one car or another and stealthily slid small inscriptions under windscreen wipers.

There’s something about trying to make the world a better place, one smile at a time, together, that makes me remember how much more exciting life is when not (always) self-revolving.  There’s something about the combination of love and creativity that opens a person to how much more can be extracted from life.  As though to unlock an unimaginable spectrum of unexplored intrigue within each conventional colour, because unless you begin to pry at each individual colour, you won’t find the rainbows in each hue.

I’m beginning to think there is so much more to human interaction than society has taught us, as though we’ve robbed ourselves of rich opportunity because we forgot/were never taught how to love from the beginning.  Why must you know them before you love them?  Why must our first subconscious thought be so self-revolving along the lines of making good first impressions, to be liked, or thoughts on “how will this occasion/person benefit/entertain me?”… as opposed to “how can I make their day?”

Melbourne streets (and I hear, it has spread further) have been sadly infected with the horrible epidemic of the never-make-eye-contact-with-strangers-and-don’t-smile-and-look-as-unhappy-as-you’ve-convinced-youself-your-life-is.  And if you walk streets, everyone is too involved in their own small world to love and be loved by their own kind (and so long as you’re human, we are all the same kind).

Having been brought up in this culture, it is no wonder then, that such simple and token things as purposely placing a few words on a stranger’s windscreen would make me feel like the most benevolent twenty-three year old I know!  And isn’t that the most tragic thing? That I would think that nice little efforts were more than a drop in the ocean!  That we have forgotten how to (truly) love humanity because we’ve decided our hearts are not strong enough too – that we can only love so few; and because we give so little practice to our little thumping figurative organs, they really don’t grow all that strong.  The misconception that once hurt, a heart is forever injured (and give me life-suport for the rest of my life) is first-world foolishness (too easily reinforced by chic-flicks).  Not that I have done any research, but from memory, the greatest lovers of humanity were the ones that hurt most but whose hearts kept pumping, whose resolves and dreams weren’t crippled by feeble emotion or selfish “feed me” mentalities and whose minds throbbed with creativity.

And don’t you who I’ve just accused go and feel pathetic because there’s now one more thing wrong with you. Do something about it, nobody’s going to save you, you have to figure it out yourself.  And I know all you ever wanted was somebody to understand you, and love you for who you are, but when was the last time you made the effort to understand somebody else, for the sake of loving them? For the sake of love!  For goodness sake!

And here’s the disclaimer: I’m not even close.  I’m aware I’m incredibly deep in selfishness, absorbed in my own fat ideas of how important I am; and having mastered my disguise of self-centredness, have fooled most into thinking I’m a “good person”. But hey, little by little you’ve got to to love more, because if you don’t and if you aren’t trying to, you’re shrinking the definition of love into something that is, well, a lie. I didn’t even imagine this is what I’d write about – I was just going to tell you about last night’s date night with the boyfriend… but the pen turned on me and now all I want to say is: shame on humanity for not loving more and for not teaching us how to.  It’s now our responsibility to change that.


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