The sequel to "EUDYSTOPIA: The Awakening of Niederlager Schade".Love is the force of the universe: it is greater than life and greater even than death with a power to either create or destroy, often alternating between both on its course that spans eternity, beyond time, beyond space, beyond existence, with its final destination ever-unknown because it is never-ending, uncertain, unpredictable and without a meaning that lends itself to an uncomplicated explanation: be it in the death of a star or in the life created in the wake of its explosion.
When love is strong enough - everything is possible.
However, great love is the only emotion that can bring forth hatred of terrifying amplitude.
And then, suddenly, horrible things are set in motion, and one would never suspect - never stop to think - that behind the face of the beast lies a broken heart.
No wonder, perhaps, that it is so, since the ultimate result is often not discernible from the abhorring workings of evil minds.
Yet, there is an important distinction between the two: a different motivation behind the crazed eyes peering down the sights of a rifle.
In a broken heart, the love had turned to hatred, however, not willingly but under the pain of torture and maybe even death.
In an evil heart, there never had been any love to begin with.
Thus, the tortured broken heart yearns to return to its prior state - to where it began: back to innocence, back to peace, back to love.
The evil heart, on the other hand, yearns for nothing at all except perhaps for itself alone: a small dark cavern where its own self-worship has taken residence, and enveloped in narcissism - it has mistaken it for love.
And perhaps this is the true distinction between the two: the love for another versus selfish voracious hunger for one's own grandeur.
It is a fine line, though, a very fine line indeed that runs between malignant self-worship and healthy self-respect.
An even finer almost invisible line draws the border between selfless unconditional love and then love that looks to find the fodder to feed itself with in the arms of another - to take that which it lacks in itself - only to hopelessly try to fill up the ever-gaping void it can never truly quench.
Perhaps the small dark cavern of the evil heart and the empty void of the confused insecure heart are one and the same thing and the only true difference lies in the nature of the matter chosen to feed it with.
And perhaps the nature of the matter is simply a question of greed: to take, to have and to give, or, to take, to have and to eternally thirst for more.
Strange are the ways of love in whichever direction it is turned and whichever shape and form it takes as well as the path down which it then travels.
Strange but simple, yet in this banal simplicity so powerful: coursing through our veins like a deluge of unstoppable force which compels us, compels us eternally to find a way back to it, back to love, love: whichever kind it may be.
And this overwhelming love, this yearning: it always finds a way even if we cannot: met with obstacles it will find a way around them or even straight through them even if in its torrentuous wayward course it needs to change its nature from a benevolent to a malicious one.
Love is the force of the universe: it is greater than life and greater even than death with a power to either create or destroy, often alternating between both on its course that spans eternity, beyond time, beyond space, beyond existence, with its final destination ever-unknown because it is never-ending, uncertain, unpredictable and without a meaning that lends itself to an uncomplicated explanation: be it in the death of a star or in the life created in the wake of its explosion.
