I don't buy this love thing. I don't think it was meant for me. I can't draw hearts, never liked the color pink, and I flinch whenever someone touches me. The more I learn about love the less I like it. It seems more of an illness than an emotion. When you're in love you can only think of the person you love. You miss their face, their laugh, their ass, their smell (another reason I don't think I'm cut out for love; nobody misses the smell of Sizzler sweat and broken dreams), you also have to wash your hands four times and clap twice or you'll get AIDS and Hitler is reborn.
For fucks sake it's hard to listen to somebody wax poetic about this heavenly plane of existence without feeling pity. It's like they awed themselves retarded. If you stare at the sun you go blind, if you gape open mouthed at dark haired women and their hints of flesh you go completely fucking mental.Talk to one of these lovesick morons. They don't make sense. “If you love somebody, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.” No, if you let them go they're fucking gone. They're off with some guy that will say the same shit you said and fucks way better than you could dream of.
I forget to see the love and beauty in everything.
I forget that loving is easy, but forgetting to love is easier.
I forget to love love, because it is love.
I just forget alot, and I don't want to forget anything about love.
I don't want to forget that loving alone makes a person happy.
There is so much harmony in love.
There is so much PATIENCE in love.
There is so much peace in love.
AND THERE IS SO MUCH LOVE IN LOVE.
-Courtesy of some girl I went to high school with
You couldn't ask for a more roundabout way to say nothing.
This Valentine's Day, when you're eating pizza by yourself like the morose bastard you are, don't pine for chronically ill couples. Smile because you're alone and you can jack off as much as you want.
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