Monday, February 13, 2006
fat-bottomed girls, they make the rocking world go round
love-- the opiate of the masses.
love-- that insidious, bowel-churning, pupil-dilating (among other things) inspiration for 99.9% of the world's nauseating poetry, wrist scars, badly-planned tattoos, and boybands.
love-- evolution's way of reminding you there's not much time left to squirt out some babies (potential or otherwise) before your gonads shrivel into uselessness.
love-- charges into the perfectly-well-ordered inner sanctum of your brain, hurls logic screaming out the window, makes itself comfortable on your hippocampus, and before long, invites his old chums Depression and Jealousy over for afternoon tea.
love-- biochemistry's most special and unbelievably-complicated way of screwing you upside the head.
love-- often a convenient shortcut to some of the most exotic mental illnesses you can think of.
and still, every 14th february, we, just like the birds, start to execute our most intricately-planned and well-disguised mating rituals. we shove ridiculously-expensive sexual organs at each other. we consume mind-boggling quantities of aphrodisiacs, inebriants, and relaxants, often with liberal application of pheromones (as interpreted by escada, chanel, tommy, and co.) and dressed-- or undressed, depending on your level of sluttiness, stupidity, and/or honesty with the whole point of valentine's day-- in clothes that continuously find new ways to titillate, excite, upset, and generally arouse the interest of the other sex, and the ire of your fellow gendermates.
and then, if you're very, very, very lucky, you might find someone you've real , true, not-just-try-try-la feelings for. and if you're strike-bigsweep-and-toto-all-in-the-same-week lucky, that person just might, might like you back. and, and-- cross your fingers, my little chickens, this is the one we're really praying for-- you might just admit the fact to each other, and live happily ever after.
at least the robins just sing a bloody song or two and then get the whole mating thing over with. god. i just don't get it.
some advice to the romantically-challenged: it's not worth it. but if you still want to give it a shot:
it's amazing what a gun to the head can do
my baby loves me now as hard as he can
my methods may be suspect
but you gotta get love however you can
--macy gray, gimme all your love or i will kill you
owners of lonely hearts: don't be discouraged. prices of lonely hearts will go up in about 2 or 3 months, once people realise how full of bullshit their vday date/significant other was/is.
+ fictions&fires
7:27 PM
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plangere, latin: to strike, or to lament.
in the depth of winter i finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
--albert camus
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to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
-- ee cummings
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