On Love

    Love! Love! Love!

    Does love really exist? Conclusion comes first: substantially, no; spiritually, yes (I admit that I say yes for I want to love still). Love is a tool created by human beings by means of language. When “What is love” is asked, it never matters what it is on earth; rather, why people ask the question in this way and why this question has so many different answers do matter. I never ask “What is an apple”because I know what it is and apple is apple. But love is different, just as hatred, life, will, success and so on, love has no certain substance which eyes can see and fingers can touch as well as it lacks the signified in language—which is the reason why love can be discussed so long and explained by human beings based on the needs. Based on its lack of signified, polished by the rhetorical devices (love is a telephone; in the adventure of love; love directs us to the right way), love is interpreted in various ways since the first concept was given.

    Love is a tool. People wear the medal of this tool to distinguish themselves from those species without being bestowed the nobility to love. People can stop hating—deep-seated hatred can temporarily be put down if necessary; while people can’t stop loving, which is something essential—loving others, up to a point, has its root from the love of self. Love builds the certain and safe shell of self-identity and security. Once one is deprived of the capacity to love, he would be like the gossamer floating in the air or the homeless traveler without any direction.Human beings wield the power of love to identify themselves as the conquerors over nature rather than the conquered, for unlike the bodily existence, love can traverse the infinity of time and space—so long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives love and this gives life to thee. People take the advantage of the ambiguity of love to justify the dark sides deep in their hearts. Igo in Shakespear’s drama Othello frames Othello’s wife as a cheater in her marriage;while at the same time, he too claims his LOVE to her—I do love her, too, not out of absolute lust though peradventure. The robbery in In the Bamboo Forest by Japanese writer Ryunosuke Akutagawa exculpates himself as a love-faller though he should rape the women he Loves. Could not be more ridiculous! As a tool, if implemented by people with ulterior motives, love will polish the sin into nobility or even sacrifice.

    Unfortunately,let me tell you the truth: powerful and significant as love is, love and pain are inseparable companions—if one loves, he or she cannot avoid being hurt. A bliss and a curse. Love pursues infinity while people are changeable, to some nobody-knows-where-it-will-be direction. When the two directions diverge, pain will inevitably emerge.

    But,whatever! Even though two souls barely converge for a blink of eye and even though it just disappears like the lightning past the sky and never to return and even though the pain of losing love and safety will tear oneself into pieces,whatever! Everything having happened is never an illusion--when the love is in tough,there must be something which responses to the universe; it is never nothingness, it will change into another form to keep your company. 

There is nothing to be afraid of! Be brave! Love! Enjoy the pain! Love! Live! Love!