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I need just one cup of coffee to be entirely happy right now. I was repeating to myself walking around the bay, crystal clear water, smell of salt and good memories around. So in no time I was sitting there, reading my book, taking peaks out the window and feeling entirely happy, with that coffee. Complete. Such a foreign feeling for those who inhabitant big cities like Moscow and get used to having meals and breathing in and out when they remember to. I was stroke by so many moral questions, but in this peaceful state of mind, on an island in the middle of nowhere, they were more and more evident, as, in the human nature, the only real issues tend to be moral, not financial or where did I leave my keys-wise. They were all spreading out the surface. I dove in. Not in the sea I was staring at blue blue water, so inviting and salty and bond to cure everything. I dove into these moral questions. I had long pursued the idea of love as attachment. Having exercised that for years, it obviously didn’t live to tell history. So I laid that aside, to say it lightly. Except for this: I know for a fact that love should not be translated into possession. Love someone who you are able to love with or without you. Love someone whose day you do not possess entirely. And I have to admit that being a believer of the private property, this goes against those beliefs. But there is no place in political world views in this branch of life. Love should be treated like the culture ministry, alien to everything that’s bureaucratic and written on paper, only job being to express itself in as many ways as it can. Loving someone at the end of the day is truly letting them go, truly believing that if they are happy without you, or with you, you will be just as accomplished and taking a well-done-good-job feeling back home. I have decided to break with the social contract of loving a person irrationally, unconditionally. One should always set these boundaries and rules, without being too formal, just as far as to protect the individual being of each party. The right to come and go, and if you’re lucky: to stay. Loving someone is always being able to let them go, but just truly hoping they will come back on their own.  Love is not attachment. It’s detachment. And it’s a natural flow. 

[Written in Larnaca, Cyprus, in a very very relaxed state of mind]

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