a fist wrapped in blood...

Inside each and everyone of us is a fist... a fist wrapped in blood. All of us have one, but why do they work so differently? I am speaking in pure symbolism of course. Naturally all of our hearts perform the same tasks, some better than others, but alas still the same. Symbolically however, my heart may love greater or lesser than the man next to me. Why is that? Why does my heart ache to see something like an animal in pain, but this man next to me pays it no mind?

I believe... that we are all capable of feeling the same emotions, but my question is, is why are these emotions evoked by different things? Some people become extremely happy at the sight of a sunset, where another person would break down into tears.

Now let us talk of love... Love is blind, or so the story goes. Would love be so blind if the fist weren't clinched so tightly? I have never been in love, but there are people my age and younger that have made a commitment to marriage. Clearly there is some form of love there even if I cannot see it. Don't misunderstand me, I do fully believe in love, but since I have never experienced the feeling before it is hard for me to grasp it. As much as I don't understand love, there are people in this world who have accidentally made themselves experts.

Their love turned to lust... because they didn't see love the way the married ones did. They saw lots of things to love, and when someone shiny and new came along, they were out of love with the old and in with the new. Lust is an emotion that I will never understand. To have an intense and almost obsessive desire for something, more often than not in a sexual way, is, to me, insanity. Some don't see it the way I do of course.

I suppose... that if every one persons "fist wrapped in blood" worked the same way that there would be mass mayhem. Where would we be on an individual basis? If we all cried at a sunset and no one became overly joyous, how would that sunset feel? If I were a beautiful sunset making people cry, I might not think I were beautiful anymore.

How complicated... we people are.