Valentine-stained decay.

heartless, i know, but there is no way to refuse my hostility Here… if you are not careful and hold yourself just so, the Valentine bug will try to eat your face as well as your heart, and even saints don’t need their heart removed to be holier than thou… this displaced remedy to disaster, replacing the reproductive notion with a romantic package on display, and all over the love becomes a cold and shallow party for the wasted emotional junkie… chocolate and flowers to offer a sign of life that simply hides the truth….that no one knows anyone with total surety, but maybe i am wrong, it isn’t as though it hasn’t happened like that before… a sureness of standing replaced with false support as the holidays collapse in on each other, like a house of cards or a bad game of jenga, and then history proves nothing as the spots on the calendar become as landmarks on the map of a parched landscape of white… with people fighting and scrambling to make everything so damned special, and working themselves to death for the shortest of respites on paid company time, for what better deal than communing with relatives of a questionable nature… my best/ worst companion is myself, and throughout the period that i can consider myself living Here, i only have myself to blame in feeling uncomfortable in my own skin… there are those of us who choose to party down to forget love under the guise of celebration, and then further others on the fringe of stream thinking take their lives because of the overwhelming attachment to the concept of love, lacking anyone to confide in other than the self… the lesson to learn is the embracing of the person you are no matter how weak you feel, through acceptance one can grow strong from within, and too many decide to externalize their will to grow and be happy… hour to hour and day to day we always desire those things that we think can sustain us, but to be absolutely certain seems false to me, as even the things we hold in high regard can turn out to betray our ideals… thought for food, the intellectual digestion of what matters, the filtering out what doesn’t… few truths are ever universal indeed…

Thanks, khet.