Someone once told me that to live is to love and to love is to know true meaning. They didn't specify, however, what type of love leads us to fulfillment. Now I think I know.
I'm aware that what I'm cradling in my arms has no heartbeat, no way to breathe, no pulse, no thought. Im aware that this is just a class project that I'll eventually forget ever happened and I'm aware that becoming emotionally attached to inanimate objects is usually not healthy. Despite knowing all of these factors, I've discovered that maternal instinct ....that need to care for and protect this manufactured chunk of plastic made to resemble a human baby. Deep down I know that somewhere in a big city advertisement commitees are going,"YES! We got another one guys! Wahooooooo! Yay manipulation of emotions through consumerism! Yay!"
( Alas, love hasn't cured me of my cynisysm...)
Now the question is: "Since when did I start living?"
2 comments:
I agree! omg Even though Daisy is a sack of flour I feel so incredible just holding her in my arms. When I hold a baby I just want to keep it close and keep it safe forever. I don't even wants kids but I totally feel drawn to protecting things.
I think that for me, it's because i want so badly for someone to protect ME from bad or scary things that, i feel the need to protect Philip, a bag of flour from fred meyer... it's more of the fact that i might be able to save someone or something else from feeling the pain that i have. if that even makes sense lol
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