Wight of the Nine Worlds


I welcome thee free spirit, which thou shalt come with an open heart, open mind and an open soul, for what you are about to read can only be understood by the wise who are eager to learn and to embrace the roots deep and forgotten in the hearts of the free people of Europe, by accepting who you are and where your roots lie, is half way into the great road of life. We will journey unto where our spirit takes us with the knowledge we gained. Learn and teach.

Pride Vs Love

    Pride Vs Love

  An affliction, that's what I probably have. I had a dream this morning, which I will not described here, but it made me woke up crying. Not that it was a sad dream, no, on the contrary; it was a very pleasant dream and I cried because I was extremely happy. The dream triggered in me a very strong emotion, and the crying of happiness made me woke up instantly.
  Now I realise (again) that love is the most powerful feeling of all. We do all sorts of crazy things for love; we could burn the world for it. But for us, men, we find it hard to express it - gods know why - and it seems we waste away opportunities to really show how much we care for someone. We men do all those childish, preposterous, inappropriate and irresponsible things to show how much we love someone, without having to say a world. For goodness sake, why is it so hard? It seems to me women can express their feelings easier than men.
  Alas! I don't want to make the same mistake thousands of men did before me, and will continue doing. I've watched first hand a couple of men from my family having an hard time expressing their feelings, which they ended up never doing it, and it was already too late. One of my uncles loved his ex-wife literally for decades, but pride was stronger and so he never told her how much he loved her, how much he needed her. Till the end his pride and his love for her consumed him, and he died miserably. He could never admit his feelings. But what's pride compared to a kiss? How can it be stronger than the feeling to embrace those we love? Healthier than the sound of laughter and a smile of happiness? I'm sure I have no idea, and to women probably goes beyond comprehension.
  Truly, I do love someone, very dearly, strongly, fervently. And here I am writing about it, in hopes that she might read; going around the subject, avoiding the truth and not being able to say it in person. It seems I'm just as dim-witted as all the other men - gods save us, in terms of expressing our feelings we men are true prehistoric beasts. It is pride yes I confess, mostly, but it is also fear.
  Exactly, we do all sort of insane things to show how much we love someone, but it would have been easier to say "I love you" or "I need you with me", but those words are frightening and they turn to hot coals in our mouths and we babble something impossible to understand. We men fight for love, but I don't think it's solely to show how much we love another, but to make that feeling endure. We fight to maintain love because we are too afraid to lose it. My uncle was very ill, for years, and he refused to die because he was fighting for that love, to maintain it inside of him, but he could never have told her that, because it would make him seem weak. Ultimately that was his doom, and his body and his heart couldn't take it any longer.
  Rather than speaking the words, I've successfully avoided what I feel for the one I love, but indirectly said it all.
  Eagerly I would tell her everything, every word she wishes me to say, every word I wish to say, but I'm too afraid of rejection.
  Solemnly I write these words, and every beating of my heart carves yet another scar deep inside my chest. I'm angry with myself for being brave enough to do and endure the hardships of life, but not brave enough to speak the words of love.
  Amorousness, what a silly word. And yet, love indeed seems silly and so beautiful, and also so dangerous and suffocating. A vertical fall of words and feelings with an hidden meaning. Woe me! Love is the death of the warrior - but what a beautiful death it is.
Arith Härger
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