Here's the little trouble maker out looking for a victim.
Another poor guy that was minding his own business get's taken out.
Very soon it will be Valentine's Day. Love will be in the air. Much like that virulent Swine Flu that's going around.
Prepare for the full on, mass marketing blitzkrieg of your sensibilities. Cupid is the shooter, but it is the merchants that bayonet the wounded.
I only hope that I can ride it out until the day after Valentine's Day when most people return to a more familiar state of being, known as reality.
Or... One would hope.
To help as many people as possible wake up and smell the dark roast reality I am posting my anti-Valentine's Day manifesto!
Get thee behind me Cupid! (At least for another year.)
I DON'T SPEAK OF LOVE ANYMORE
This is about that old universal heartbreaker. Unrequited love.
Of all lifes mysteries,
LOVE is the most mysterious.
The who, what, when, where,
and whys of LOVE.
All down through history
it's been making folks delerious.
It did the same to me,
till i'd had enough.
BECAUSE:
Love is only for those
to who LOVE will give it.
AND:
Love is for who LOVE is for.
That wasn't me, I had to finally admit it.
Now, I don't speak of LOVE anymore.
I don't speak of LOVE anymore,
although I feel the same.
I had hoped for love before,
I gave LOVE a name.
Love is the gift.
LOVE is the giver.
Truly, LOVE is its own reward.
I am adrift on lifes raging river,
and LOVE won't tow my heart to shore.
I don't dream of LOVE anymore.
I don't dream at all.
On wings of LOVE my heart did soar.
Awake, how far and fast the fall.
For some, LOVE is magic,
for some LOVE is grand.
They find love tho they think they won't.
For me it was tragic,
just sleight of hand.
Now I see LOVE, now I don't.
I won't ask for love again.
I 'm sure I won't do that.
But if I do, please be a friend,
and beat me with a baseball bat.
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