In my opinion, it all comes down to human beings and their human capabilities. The capability that says they can love all seems a little beyond our competence. If this sensitive heart that is so often sung about, so often written about; if it were really a human condition, wouldn’t we all be a little bit more suited for it? But as with everything, human beings have the ability to take a fascinatingly sublime sentiment and bastardize the fuck out of it.
Think about God, about religion, about spirituality. It has the ability to be magnetic, and yet, it rarely is. Instead it has become something that is other. The idea of this higher power, the idea of this being that knows all and that sees all, that can essentially be any single thing that any single one of us on this human plane needs, is just so beyond us. As simple and arrogant human beings, the lovely and necessary belief is just pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed until all that remains is what we have. Judgment. Hatred. Despair. The very core of any religious belief these days starts and ends with an ignorance that inundates everything. Spirituality should be nothing but love and understanding and peace, but it is instead given to us in the form of disgust and hate and war. Humans at their best, fucking up that which should remain beautiful.
And as with the could-be-ideals of religion, the same is true for love. Issues relating to the human heart. Us pathetic, struggling humans remove whatever joy should accompany the prospect of love. We add instead the distaste of irony, of stupidity, of fear, and of loneliness. It is these things that build the human heart and these things alone that are responsible for its sorry demise. What is sung, what is written; that feeling is not real, that sentiment is far from the truth of what is really going on inside. Love is lost on the thinking, because to love, to really feel that huge emotion, we would have to comprehend so much more. We would have to comprehend the reason for life, the purpose of God, and to do both is an impossibility for our incapable minds. That tension, felt within our apparently fragile chest, tightens and gives with the unfathomable beating of our open hearts. It beats a false reality, it beats a reality for one.