Who loves the best?  We individually all think we do and when in love, we want to be self-devoted exactly the same way in return.  However the untimely, arduous and unfair situations in earthly life have a way of opening our senses to the other good and tangible things we were not paying attention to before.

The sacred love I look for may not be the one you offer as passion is like a butterfly, it goes where it pleases and delights where it lands.  A butterfly and happiness are alike; they both need a chrysalis to take shape.  When pursued, they are always just beyond your grasp, but if you waited patiently, they may alight upon you.

The art of being happy is about as easy as following advice to get well when one is sick; it feels like discovering the elixir of eternal life and comes as naturally as sleep.  In essence we all seek happiness yet when we have it, we do not see it.  Only a heart that is in love tricks the mind into perceiving it and two enamored souls (the sum of what anyone could ever have) ameliorate the current state of perfection.

The perfectionism is the autonomy to be brave enough to make many errors, meanwhile we are not always that we reflect and offering to others what we really need is not easy.  A man is potentially kind yet only the educated learns from his mistakes and really understands what to do with one’s liberty of the mind:  “The instant absence of obstacles to the realization of desires.”

While we are responsible for the consequences of our actions, the promise of free will makes us feel so sovereign that turns on occasion our very existence into an act of rebellion.  Since the indigenous powers carelessly misuse faith as a common way to avoid plagiarism for monetary gain, we end up becoming our own slaves by believing in belief.

Does a word mean less because it comes from a human being?  Is teaching not a heavy enough responsibility and is learning not the better half of teaching well?  Thinking is what we want to instruct because no other force can stop someone who wants to be cultivated, except for himself.

We are all taught that freedom is not free and life without it is a kind of death.  But should it not be also mentioned regularly that our privileges end where the others’ start, that we need to be organized before being united, that taking a life is a crime even if it was for a just cause?

Who loves the best?  A free man who loves independence itself much more than his own, who protects and cherishes love because he is not weak, ignorant or naïve.  The virtuous one who can break the rules if it is necessary to make them better; he who knows that tyranny is bad yet anarchy is the worst ever.

 

Serenade.

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