something less.

Soulmates

Plato believed that humans were originally in pairs, joined to another by the backs, but were split by the Gods because we were too powerful.
Now we are doomed to wander the Earth
until we find
our other
half.

photo.

"condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other half to complete them"

According to Theosophy, God created androgynous souls, equally male and female. Later theories postulate that the souls split into separate genders, perhaps because they incurred karma while playing around on the Earth, or "separation from God". Over a number of reincarnations, each half seeks the other. When all karmic debt is purged, the two will fuse back together and return to the ultimate.

I really, REALLY like this idea.
I think I should have liked Plato.

Story.

photo.

 

Once, in a land far from here, in a time that may never come to pass, I escaped from Despair, a demon who was hunting me. I arrived in an unfamiliar land, where despair did not follow me. As I walked through fields of tranquility, I met a young girl with sweet melodies plaited through her hair and light in her heart. She spoke in colours. As we talked I told her of my world and the monster I was fleeing, confused, she questioned me, "What colour is despair?"
"Black, I suppose."
She thought about this. "But what kind of black? Black like a crow's feathers? Or nightfall? Or-"
"No," I cut her off, frustrated, "black like in your room, alone at night. Like the deepest part of the ocean where just looking at it you feel like you will lose yourself. Like nothingness, the unknown."
Confusion clouded her face and envy filled my depths. She lived in a world where that colour wasn't a feeling, where it didn't exist, her next words confirmed it.
"I don't think I've ever felt that colour."
"How I wish I could stay here," I whispered with a voice like glass.
"You can." She murmured, her face filled with warmth.
"I can't," I whispered, longing clouding my voice, "what about all those I love?"
She hesitated, "Love? What colour is that?"
My breath ran away, and in an instant my envy transformed into pity. After much thought, I spoke, "Well, I suppose, it's every colour."
The girl who spoke in colours searched my eyes for the hidden meaning that she couldn't reach, not here.
"Do you mean white?"
"No," I choked on the words, "not at all...I'm sorry, I- I don't think there is a colour."
And with that I leant down to kiss her on both cheeks before walking away. And as soon as she was out of sight I began to run. And as I ran I sobbed, my heart cracking open, emotions filling my lungs. I prayed I could find my way back home and no longer feared the monster that had chased me here.
Because feeling horrible beats feeling nothing.
Because I didn't want to close off.
Because that poor girl would never feel love because she lived in a world without hate.
Beacuse I'd rather be fucked up anyday.