Of all attempts to immortality man might ponder upon, of all ways for the profound subject to project himself onto transference objects that break the bounds of mortality, the true, ultimate, fundamental transference object not only for man but life itself, is love.

It is one of the toughest and trickiest matters that scientists and philosophers have encountered, for even them, the objective rational ones, free-fall senselessly into beauty. The bond amid love and beauty is explicit: no conscious being can deny that love is beautiful; just as it is quite a consensus that the universe is the grand design. Then the scientist’s skepticism and the philosopher’s addiction to thought dig into the secrets of love, to try to rationalize it, or dress it up with theorems and hypotheses, but they will forever fail to conclude. For love is not merely an abundance of neurotransmitters firing in our brains, nor is it a metaphysical theory to be debated about; it is more than that, it is real, and it is the essence of life itself.

In the quantum world, ‘quantum entanglement’ is when two particles, regardless of the light-years that separate them, interact in such a way that the fate and quantum state of one particle is dependent on its entangled partner. In such an observation, recognizing the secrets of such a phenomenon and describing it in mathematical equations would be futile in light of its beauty; for sometimes learning a magic trick renders it dull, for where is the magic then?

To tackle the entanglement that ties two lovers, we must first detach them from one another, and look at the individual on its own; and after doing so, we realize that our sampled conscious individual carries the weight of being merely a mortal embodied mind limited by bounds of reality and sinking into the voids of confusion and absurdity. Thus ‘entangling’ with another conscious individual bearing other existential weights renders man more complete in such a scheme; just as much as detaching a particle from its quantum entanglement would render it incomplete.

Here, one must not ‘imagine Sisyphus happy’, rather imagine Sisyphus in love; for if Sisyphus falls in love, it would be futile to return to the rock, and wiser to abandon it.

It is evident that love is human’s preferable means of immortality; even in technology and futurism we tend to enhance human connectivity, or ‘human entanglement’ for the sake of the analogy, by pushing ourselves further and experiencing digital entanglement, we’ve come so far in evolving our ultimate weapon of transference that even a virtual text message has the power to get our hearts pulsating, goose bumps dashing across our skin, and our minds tripping on memory lanes.

A photograph that is merely an instantaneous imprisonment of light has the legitimacy of taming with our emotional memory and dissolving our ego into tears.

We long for awe, we long for immortality, and thus we long for love.

When in a moment of now, in awe, in a flow state of connectivity, time is compressed and an instant is equivalent to a thousand. Therefore, love and other wonders transcend us to a dimension where time, and henceforth death, are insignificant. & just like that, we cheat on time with our human mistresses, and cheat on death with our offspring; thereupon making love the most powerful weapon in our war with existentialism.

It is ironic though, how love battles time and ephemerality, while time and ephemerality are what give love meaning, just as the value of spring’s blossoms lies in the heart of fall’s transience.

And so here one’s fear of love develops as a result of the fear of the heartbreak; why indulge in such an intense spring when fall will wear it all off?

It is identical to the development of the fear of life as an upshot of the fear of death: we do not invest in life for one day death will wash it away, we do not indulge in awe for the sun will set and darkness will rule the night, we do not fall in love for love is fleeting and the heartbreak awaits.

However, only through experience and time, emotions and pain, could one grasp and draw, little by little, the fine line separating love and loss, life and death; and there comes a time where it might be a little too late, which is why I urge you to plunge in, run, feel, cry, scream; I urge you to be human. For the more one allows a free-fall into beauty, the more humane one becomes. The absurdity of life is evident in how some processes are irreversible, in how we age, in how we die, & the righteous response as Albert Camus would recommend, is not by abandonment, rather by revolt, and again by not going ‘gentle into that good night but raging against the dying of the light.’

Do not fear life for the randomness, absurdity, and halt that death awaits, rather live ceaselessly because you will die; love endlessly because it is ephemeral, and because it will hurt.


Love is more.

Love is particle entanglement.

Love is time distortion and a manifestation of value in ephemerality.

Love is personifying “god” and sinking in the feelings of grandiosity that are entailed, just as that of the sunrise, into a human body that regards with emotional eyes and touches with overwhelming hands.

Love is two subjects throwing loads of individual experience at each other as two galaxies indulged in an intergalactic dance that only ends when the pair merges into one.

And as it ends,

Imagine Sisyphus in love.