Love.

Is the title a noun or an imperative? Is loving optional or an egalitarian burden? Regardless of how I stand up to my questions, old annoying Society somehow mocks them and becomes a misogynistic judger, who makes me less of a man because I haven't canonized the best of a lady under a relationship with my gentle charms. Well, I don't think one who manages to attract plenty of women makes a gentleman. I believe a true gentleman is the individual who dares to fall in love no matter how high the risk of falling apart may be. Brave is the one who loves inmensely, unconditionally, and opens his heart in world of hatred, and blessed is who walks gracefully into his coffin and claims to have loved it all, even the unloveable. Passion for love is what gives this life the poetry it needs, even if it crumbles apart and it reduces to ashes joint by broken veins and bleeding arteries; for even a broken heart may end up in a happy melody through the metric, the rhyme and the syllables a poem sings in sign of an elegy.

So, to fall in love or to fall apart? Both are essential parts of living fully; therefore, my son, even if Society haunts you by questioning your manhood, don't be afraid of being rejected by a golden-haired lady with a fairly shining smile. Go ahead and embrace that rejection. Cry for it, write a mad lyric and join it with an unglorious guitar accord. After all, in vision of Erasmus of Rotterdam, madness is what may save us from our own despair.

Love always as I love you, my graceful gentlemen,

Eduardo.