| A Valentine for my Love of Complaining-Saturday, February 14th, 2004 Valentine's Day. Love is in the air. Can you feel it? No? Me neither. I hate Valentine's Day. I used to have no reason to care for Valentine's Day. Then I met Jess, and suddenly it has meaning. And with everything with meaning, it also has shit. There was a Valentine's Dance after school yesterday and everyone was trying to get me to go. No. I refused. Why? Dances sucks ass. They are extremely boring and fucking pointless. All the preps stand in circles and talk while they play rap music. Isn't this what preps do normally? Nobody dance's either. I'll make a deal with you. Make the preps leave, which would DRASTICALLY increase the amount of space, then play good music. Then I'll come. So while everyone else was out wasting their time last night, I stayed home and talked to Jess. I had ten times more fun just talking to her than I would have watching the preps and trying to cover my ears. Why do people buy cards and stuff on Valentine's day? To show your lover that you do, in fact, love them. BULL SHIT. If you did love them, you would do it all the time! And you know what? It would come from the heart. You buy cards for people. How fucking shallow. Do you know what I did for Jess? I wrote her a letter. That's right. I WROTE IT WITH MY HANDS. I didn't buy it. I care about her enough to actually create something for her. Take some time out your pathetic life and make something for your Valentine. And don't wait until Valentine's day to do it. I tell Jess that I love her every day. Maybe that's why divorce rate is so high these days. People don't love each other enough anymore. Your spouse is supposed to be the number one thing in your life. NUMBER ONE. Not work. Not play. Not school. Let me point something out to you. God did not let the humans eat the fruits of the tree of knowledge. However, He made Eve. If education was more important than love, wouldn't it have been the other way around? Cupid should be shot. I hate him. I fucking hate him. If I ever saw him on the street I would pin him down and cut off his wings with a blunt steak knife. Then I would take those arrows and them them down his throat. |