Fallen Angel

One of my hobbies used to be collecting postcards. Unfortunately, the craze is over now and supply has run short, almost to a non existent point. They used to be scattered everywhere, now all I have collected, I have deemed precious and rare. Have a whole stack which I gathered when I was banished willingly to Australia. Wanted to fill up my bedroom wall from top to bottom when I returned home but never got to it. Tonight, I took out my super stack to rekindle some fond memories and came across one of my top 10 favourites.

The Concept of The 1

I know I've brought this up before in one of my previous postings but I would like to again. We always make it about 1 person. The 1 who rules our heart. The 1 who sits on a pedestal, high above others. The various chapters of our lifebook might add up to many number 1s due to our experiences as people come and go, whether we want them to or otherwise. But what has been apparent in each of these chapters? Some 1 existed and they had/still do have our undying love. We store a part of ourselves exclusively for them. They hold the key and lock our hearts. Our devotion. Our commitment. Our dedication. All with no maybes, no what ifs. What I mean here is the notion of true love for 1 person who had/have us in absolute totality. And if things are not satin smooth sailing, the role of a puppet of Love we would play.

If there's a kind of fool we all are at one stage or more in our lives, it would be a LoveFool. Love becomes the puppet master of our lives, controls and pulls us by the string, making us dance to its own beat, its own tune in which we have no say. We hear it calling to our hearts. It shrieks at us like the violent wind; whispers softly like the gentle breeze. Nevertheless, whatever form it chooses to make its presence known by, even the strongest can rarely resist. And it'll be just a matter of whether we listen to its command or break free from its chains. This is the tug of war, the pushing and pulling between our heart and our head. Our struggle with Love and the Fool it makes of us all...

These are my thoughts, that gushes into me whenever I look at 'Fallen Angel'. It is actually a painting by that name. Shall leave it to be admired or criticised. What is your feel? I'll like to know if I'm alone...or do I have an army of Love behind me?