A/N: The publication of this does not take me off of hiatus. I don't know how long it will be between updates, but do know that I am in fact writing again. In a very very minimal way. That being said, this story is a bit different than my others, mainly due to the fact that it will not have any pairings. LOLWHUT!? Yeah, you heard me.

Simply put, this is a drabble series, and as such, none of these are going to ultimately weave any sort of storyline. I hope you enjoy it for what it is, regardless.

Emotions. They are the most useless addition to the human psyche. They cloud one's judgment during pivotal moments, ultimately leaving oneself exposed to both mental and physical pain. For what purpose do anger or fear or love or hate serve?

Zexion paused a moment, lifting the pen from the Lexicon. Love. What a foreign word. He said it, muttered it, shouted it, but any way it was vocalized, it left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. What was so special about the word? Many great men and women had met their end for the sake of this deceptively simplistic word. As he thought about it, he realized that love was not that impressive of a word. One syllable; two vowels, two consonants, totaling four letters. Alas, authors would describe it as butterflies fluttering in the stomach, the heart clenching at the sight/sound/touch of the object of ones affections. Shaking his head, Zexion's pen met paper once more, and he continued writing.

Emotions continue to be the bane of any existence. To be in battle, and have terror suddenly grip the heart, one would, without question, suffer defeat. The very same concepts apply to love; the very moment one falls in love, they immediately are left open, weak, vulnerable.

There was that word again. Zexion glared at his right hand for a moment, damning it for writing that perplexing word. And yet... Grey eyes drifted upwards, slowing following the slopes and curves of the architecture surrounding him as he resumed his musings of love. No matter how many times he thought it, spoke it, wrote it, he would never understand the word. Eyes dropping back to the paper, he scanned his last sentence before pressing onward.

Alas, Nobodies do not possess hearts. We are completely unhindered by the complexities of the human heart – or so we foolishly believe. In reality, the mind casts an illusion on the body, making a Nobody falsely perceive that what they 'feel' is actual. On some subconscious level, we recall what it was like to feel when we were alive – when we were human. Yes, we have pseudo-emotions, but beyond, there continues to be nothing. Emotions are useless. Worthless. Yet, we strive to recover our hearts. We desire to feel real emotions once more. To once more 'exist'. This, I believe, is a truly ludicrous idea.

Zexion set down his quill and read over what he'd written, mouthing the words as he went. Snorting, he slammed the Lexicon shut and stood, chair scraping noisily on the tile as it was pushed backwards. Emotions. What an idiotic – childish, even – topic to deal with. But, it was his job to fill the Lexicon, and emotion was the first item on the list Xemnas had given him upon discovery of the book, followed by an entry on Heartless, then one on Nobodies.

But that was enough on that subject for now – Zexion was tired, and as such, headed for bed.

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