I hate Valentine's Day. It sucks rocks. There is like this field that surrounds us on this day, an aura that just makes you feel our of place if you don't have a soul to share it with. People lucky enough, or whatever, to have a significant other thrive on the field, it instills them with happy feelings. But not the lonely. The lonely are trapped inside it, there is no where they can hide. It permeates the strongest walls, seeps through the cracks of every building. It surrounds us, like some hellish force. We feel it. It mocks us. We are ashamed to be in its presence. The lonely are blasphemous on a day like this. We are rejects.

Most of us have been positively affected by the field at one time or another, when there was someone else with us. Someone to share the power of the force with. That makes things worse, because we compare every Valentine's Day to that perfect one we once had. This round of musical chairs is lost. We start wondering if we will ever get a chair again. All these thoughts cloud our mind, like they do occassionally, but the field brings them to the front of our mind and gives them presedence over everything else. Shitty.

Sure, you can be yourself. You can cast off all your superficial shackles, but that does nothing. To cast them off is to cast off all chances of ever meeting another. We can only go halfway in the exposure of our true selves, and that makes us all the more disgusting. But it in the only way to live, the only way we can simultaneously say "I am me" and exist with the rest of the world. Going too far risks our social status, and not going far enough makes us stuck up and repressed. You can't win. You either have to give in to the jaded standards of the day or isolate yourself from the rest of the world.

But it is all too hard to gauge. You can't be sure if you are acting like yourself. There is no such thing as acting like yourself, because no one truly knows who they are. They do things for other people without knowing it. There is no escaping the standards of others. They invade everything we do. They take us over like some kind of parasitic alien.

And yet we try to be ourselves, try to isolate ourselves from the standards. We wear the clothes we like, ones that are comfortable. We buy music we truly like. We wear our hair any fucking way we please. We indulge ourselves to comfort, free of superficial bullshit. But we can't go far enough. We are imprisoned. There is no where to turn or hide. Subtly, we still worship society. Our actions and everything we think is biased by everything else. We can't do a fucking thing.

Because being yourself is painful. It's like taking on the world. You can fight it until you die, and live a horrible, disappointing life or you can give in. You can surrender your soul. But no one ever stands tall and emerges from life a truly unbiased, truthful person. They always give in. In the entire history of the world, no one has ever truly stood tall and taken on the world. They have gone halfway. They have never completed the quest.

I want to complete the quest. I want to die free of earthly bullshit. But there is no escaping it. My other desires conflict with that goal. I want to find love, I want to have children. But I can't do those things without giving up. The most I can hope for is not giving up too much of myself. Who the fuck knows. It is all bullshit.