Being vulnerable

So, the weird thing about love.

It's simultaneously exalted and despised.

Love is the miracle healer of any and all ailments. It's the good that nullifies ALL the bad. It's what binds us together. All of humankind is strolling forward hand in hand lovingly guiding each other up and up toward the heights only love will make us strong enough to reach. It conquers all, eventually, don't ever give up!

And love is the undoer of dignity and respect. When unrequited it's not even love anymore. It's fixation, a pathetic inability to let go. Unhappy endings quickly wear out the ears of the most patient listener.

Even if you're lucky enough to find a willing receptacle you must temper your feelings, or else you're a simpering fool, the manipulatable tool of your desire.

So, there you are, a weak, pathetic idiot, hating yourself, the person you love and the people whose sighs and sneers you just can't bare, wanting to tear this stupid fucking glue of humankind out of your brain.

You don't want to bring everyone down with your childish, pathological obsession. Poems? Seriously, get a grip.

Have some pride, asshole, you're making people squirm with embarrassment.

No comments:

Post a Comment