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L=G\R

L = G/R.

This equation Is an attempt to express love with a mathematical equation.

G=the amount we give and put into the relationship.

R= the amount we receive from the relationship.

When R=0 and G= Any positive number, L= infinity.

When G=0 then R= any positive number, L= 0

L=1 when G=R .

L= meaningless when R=0 and G=0.

L= loving is giving.

To love someone, you give them your all. Your emotions, your fears, and your heart.

When there is no giving or receiving, there is nothing and love is meaningless. Even if you receive nothing you still give them your all, why? Why would you give everything to someone that gives you nothing?  Because love isn’t  getting back, its giving a person your all.

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Jamie’s blanket

I was first created in a large, dirty shack by the small, dirty, cut hands of a small boy. He would talk to me while he was sowing me. He would only whisper though, I didn’t catch every word just some mumbling, he would talk about his family I learnt after listening as hard as as I could. When he finished me he just whispered ‘goodbye’, then put me to the side. The boy continued to make more blankets and he would talk to them all, at first I was annoyed. The person that brought me to this world didn’t just talk to me like I thought he should. But then I started to notice the solemn expression on his small bleak face and I knew he needed the company, even if we couldn’t talk back. The boy later keeled over someone came to check on me later, he died of an aneurysm caused by Kawasaki disease. Later on a little girl came to box me up along with twenty odd other blankets, but she didn’t speak, I think she might have wanted to, but just kept her mouth closed. I drifted into oblivion for hours, days, weeks until I woke to a bright store light brighter then anything I’d ever seen. the shack had been dim, only lit by one low watt bulb in the middle. This was different, this was almost blinding. I was lifted out of the box and suddenly the girl was holding me to her face. She smiled and put me down. No one had ever shown me that much physical contact except the boy, the girl ran her hands down my thick artificial fur then put me to the shelf and stacked a few more blankets on top. I want to talk to the woman but found no words to say, I realise I do not need to speak though, she never said anything to me and didn't need to, the boy may have talked but not really to me. The girl had satisfied herself,and I found myself also satisfied with the physical contact that she had given me. I sat on my shelf thinking about nothing,for a long time.

I woke up from oblivion and looked around the shop, I saw people, mingling doing all sorts of things to satisfy themselves; they ate, they talked, they even sat in the stores chairs to rest themselves. I saw the girl that had put me to her face. She stacked more blankets onto another shelf opposite to mine. I watch her as there is nothing other to do than watch. She bent and picked up blanket after blanket to stack on the shelf, she puts none to her face though, I was special, she only did that to me. She finished stacking and left. I looked around again taking in everything this time I saw more ways the people were satisfying themselves. They walk around with trolleys full of items to fulfil them; movies, pillows, junk food, clean glasses, crockery. So many small things that make an even smaller difference in their lives but the quantity adds up to make something much bigger.  I wondered why I do not deserve to be satisfied by something or someone, all I served to do is satisfy others. Maybe its because of the small quantity of things I’d done in my life time compared to their abundance of achievements, maybe their more deserving of satisfaction. But what about the things I had done? I helped that girl by letting her feel my fur. I was there for the boy to talk to, technically in both of these situations I didn’t actively do anything, but to be fair I don't think I can ‘actively’ do anything. I started to get annoyed at my thoughts so I entered the oblivion.

I wake to feel myself being lifted of a shelf and into the arms of a kind faced pregnant woman. I felt her push me to her face just like the other woman did, I was reluctant to satisfy people now after my mental debate. But it seems after trial I had deducted I cannot move, I tried to scream, but nothing. It seemed all I could do is sleep and think, I was useless. Obsolete. She smiled as she felt me softness against her pale skin. That woman bought me and I never saw the store or the girl that worked there again, I felt no remorse though, in fact i felt nothing. I am just an object after all why should I miss a false sense of a home I never had or felt. I went to the oblivion, I didn't even want to know what would happen next. In the oblivion there is light but not the kind that I saw in the shop this is different its like a really dark light full of colours that have never been seen before and to see them would push the human mind to complete and utter insanity. When in the oblivion there is a feeling, an emotion completely different to any other feeling you have and will ever feel. The oblivion is the place between life and death.

I wake to a sharp pain in my back, over and over again. The pain grows each time, a stabbing over and over again into my back. To cry is useless. The pain goes on and on, then it stops and I drift back away.

I woke to a racket, someone is crying it sounds scared and desperate, I opened my eyes, ready for horror, then realise I’m wrapped around somebody. At first I think it is the woman but whoever it is is to small. I realise its the baby. I look at it, so small. This picture of innocents, I give him warmth as he nuzzles into my thick fur. I hold him close and see a writing on my back that was never there when I was made. It had been added by supposably the woman. The writing says Jamie. I look at the baby boy, and realise that to bring warmth and comfort to this boy, that, is all satisfaction I need in life.

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Saudade

saudade/saʊˈdɑːdə/noun

Saudade is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one cares for and/or loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never be had again.

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Hiraeth

hiraeth/ˈhɪərʌɪθ/

noun

A deep longing for something, or someone unknown to you. A homesickness for a home you have never had.

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Home

'where am I?'

where do you want to be?

'home.'

then this is home

'who am I?'

You are Nine

'why Am I here?'

you are running out of time

'what is time?'

time is the measured or measurable period during which an action processes.

'what am I?'

you are nine

'thats not what I mea-'

your times is almost over

'what am I?'

you will be returned in 46 seconds

'what are seconds?'

seconds are time

"where will I be returned?'

home

but this is home?

this is time

'what am I?'

your are nine

5

4

'what are you?' 3

2

'WHAT ARE YOU?'

1

Home