To look into the bare, naked soul of another human being - particularly when it happens to belong to someone so firmly implanted inside of your own, carries an extraordinarily overwhelming power. A power that twists the entire complexities of the spectrum of life, into a form of clarity, in which a word needs to be invented beyond vivid - as it is nowhere near strong enough, to do this incredible feeling justice.
It feels as if you are gazing - without thought or concept, into the absolute core and root of a human soul; a soul which existed in the beginning as fresh, excited, and innocent. Before the outer world and internal motion began moulding, shaping, convoluting, and conditioning it, to a point of barely being able to recognize or even see it in the external world. Watch a child openly and freely express their real selves - unafraid and unconcerned; happy and free. Now find me an adult in this life who carries no metaphorical armour to protect themselves. The amounts vary drastically, but we all have some form or another. We need to, to a degree.
This all began to make me think about the inner workings of the human soul - which is - in my own personal definition, the combination of the mind, the heart, the body, and every element which encompasses all of that which makes us human. Some may argue the soul does not even exist, and, while I cannot prove to you I am absolutely right - you also are unable to prove to me that I am evidently wrong.
As I look and think deeper into this, I find myself starting to understand a simple mechanism of humanity - all humanity. Deep down inside, every last living being - all of us; you, me, the last woman you lied to, the last pensioner you ignored. The bus driver, the dictator, the silent witness, the junkie, the thief, the rebel, the conformist, the thinker, the doer, the follower, the leader, hell, even the universally despised traffic warden - all simply want nothing more than to be loved. More to the point, to feel as if they are loved... even if it isn't entirely true.
The difficult issue is that each individual impression of a constitution of love, differs in great amounts. Therefore, the world moves around searching for the same outcomes, yet in hundreds of thousands of unique ways and means. Our constructions are born from our environments and conditioning, or sometimes even as a rejection of these modes. But we keep searching, and often get so far lost in all the attempts at trying to find it, we forget what it is we are searching for in the first place. Many do find solace though - and for this, it is a reminder to always continue searching, no matter how deep in the mud our feet have sunk.
Seeing this sight, it scared me, if I am honest. It reminded me of the analogy I always use of humans as Russian Dolls - the structure and title of my first completed screenplay. The idea of this massive sized, bold, stoic, figurine, standing proud on a high shelf. Yet, when you strip them layer by layer, all you are left with is this fragile, somewhat innocent, and frightened creature. And, as always seems to be, it is usually the most beautiful of dolls, who hide the greatest sadness. It scared me because it was very very real. It was blunt, open, naked, and perhaps one of the purest sights these eyes have ever seen. It also made me realize that I may never expose this part of myself to anybody, ever. Not because I don't want to, but because I really don't know if I can.
I don't watch much television, or play computer games. I am not against fiction, as fiction is a great way of relaxing the mind in fantasy from the stresses of life, as well as showing examples of certain aspects of life. But for me, I am trying to find the absolute root of our lives, and, while I believe the end result will be a beautiful sight in which it all makes perfect sense, there are going to be many visions that will require internal strength beyond any period of the past. But I am strong, I am steadfast. I will not live on my knees... I never will.
I have to keep going. I have to face the sights which scare me. They are no longer external, and I desire to break through the looking glass. Yes, it was scary, yes, it was real... but it made me realize, that while rules are always made to be broken - hearts are not. And as scary as the feeling was, I believe I only want more...