Report #018: The Belated Valentine's Rant
~We're not positive and uplifting? Fuck you. Walk a mile in our shoes. Experience hell, hard times and hefty dues.~
February 14th, 2005...
Valentine's Day...
Day of Love... Day of Hate...
Many awaken to the morn of Valentine's Day with hope of either gifts flowing forth from their loved ones and significant others, or as some believed ignorantly as I once did that the 'Secret Admirer' that all the hopeless romantics pine for in the tearful sleep of loneliness. I spent the holiday doing something I enjoy after class: killing shit in a virtual environment, American McGee's Alice actually. I hate the holiday. It reminds me of everything I hate about the false prophet of Love.
Days before the V-Hell, an auction for dates was held in the SUB (Snack Shop). I would of gone to oogle at the pathetic and stupid wasting money for the sheer experience of not being alone for a night. If you want some company for a night, just call my ass up. I don't do much but read and watch movies at night anyway.
People claim that the feeling of love is one of the greatest you can feel in the world, this is bullshit. I've experienced Euphoria and I've experienced Love and the two are not the one in the same. The worst that you can expect from Euphoria is a distancing from reality and the rejoining of it when it wears off, when Love ends you would seemingly rather take a spoon and not only carve your heart out but remove each vital organ alphabetically just not to deal with the harsh and taunting emotions as you pass all the other happy couples. A fate worst than death if such a thing ever existed.
Why do I hate love? Why do I sneer in disgust and frustration at every cozy couple and kissing pair I pass? Does it root with Robbie? No, far from it. I owe Robbie alot in teaching me the truth of unadulterated pain, a lesson I shall never forget. My hatred for the feeling of fornication is rooted in the idiots who attempt to carry it out. Each after their own ideal vision of a perfect precession of heart felt emotion. The end result never works. There is no perfect marriage, there is no perfect couple, there is no perfect love, no matter what Hallmark, Stories or that ideological longing in the pit of the blood pumping sack of muscle you call a heart.
I was once a Hopeless Romantic. I dreamt of the beautiful and happy loves I had seen play out in manga, anime and video game screen. I found nothing but a cold grasp of loneliness and sadness around my spirit of seeking emotional satisfaction. Unlike most of my peers my desire in a relationship is not centered and flowing from the single goal orientated desires of my dick and satisfying carnal urges. To this day a happy relationship like that is always the desire when I comprehend concepts of romance, but time takes it toll and the desire is gilded with cynicism if you couldn't tell already. Will I find that which I dream for and desire? Playing the odds of my jester like personality and hopeless romantic undertones to my tongue, I will most likely die a lonely man in a house built to serve as my castle and my grave.
Pessimism or realism?
I leave you to decide.
K-OSS the Harlequin
February 14th, 2005...
Valentine's Day...
Day of Love... Day of Hate...
Many awaken to the morn of Valentine's Day with hope of either gifts flowing forth from their loved ones and significant others, or as some believed ignorantly as I once did that the 'Secret Admirer' that all the hopeless romantics pine for in the tearful sleep of loneliness. I spent the holiday doing something I enjoy after class: killing shit in a virtual environment, American McGee's Alice actually. I hate the holiday. It reminds me of everything I hate about the false prophet of Love.
Days before the V-Hell, an auction for dates was held in the SUB (Snack Shop). I would of gone to oogle at the pathetic and stupid wasting money for the sheer experience of not being alone for a night. If you want some company for a night, just call my ass up. I don't do much but read and watch movies at night anyway.
People claim that the feeling of love is one of the greatest you can feel in the world, this is bullshit. I've experienced Euphoria and I've experienced Love and the two are not the one in the same. The worst that you can expect from Euphoria is a distancing from reality and the rejoining of it when it wears off, when Love ends you would seemingly rather take a spoon and not only carve your heart out but remove each vital organ alphabetically just not to deal with the harsh and taunting emotions as you pass all the other happy couples. A fate worst than death if such a thing ever existed.
Why do I hate love? Why do I sneer in disgust and frustration at every cozy couple and kissing pair I pass? Does it root with Robbie? No, far from it. I owe Robbie alot in teaching me the truth of unadulterated pain, a lesson I shall never forget. My hatred for the feeling of fornication is rooted in the idiots who attempt to carry it out. Each after their own ideal vision of a perfect precession of heart felt emotion. The end result never works. There is no perfect marriage, there is no perfect couple, there is no perfect love, no matter what Hallmark, Stories or that ideological longing in the pit of the blood pumping sack of muscle you call a heart.
I was once a Hopeless Romantic. I dreamt of the beautiful and happy loves I had seen play out in manga, anime and video game screen. I found nothing but a cold grasp of loneliness and sadness around my spirit of seeking emotional satisfaction. Unlike most of my peers my desire in a relationship is not centered and flowing from the single goal orientated desires of my dick and satisfying carnal urges. To this day a happy relationship like that is always the desire when I comprehend concepts of romance, but time takes it toll and the desire is gilded with cynicism if you couldn't tell already. Will I find that which I dream for and desire? Playing the odds of my jester like personality and hopeless romantic undertones to my tongue, I will most likely die a lonely man in a house built to serve as my castle and my grave.
Pessimism or realism?
I leave you to decide.
K-OSS the Harlequin