I hate Valentine's Day.

I hate not being able to find the right card to send.
I hate finding the right card to send, because the recipient might not have gotten me one and then I'll feel like such a fool.
I hate wondering whether or not I should give a gift, and if I do give a gift, how extravagant it should be.
I hate not getting a gift on Valentine's Day, especially if I've given somebody else one.

I hate Valentine's Night. I hate not going out to dinner on Valentine's Day.
I hate going out to dinner on Valentine's Day because every place romantic has been booked solid for the last three weeks, and if you do by some miracle happen to get in, it's disgustingly crowded and noisy, and about as romantic as gym class in high school.

I hate Valentine's Day
I hate thinking about all the flowers that give their lives just so someone at school can look really popular. That's all it is. A stupid popularity contest with nothing to do with love besides using it as a front. I hate it that there's some kid in a classroom somewhere who didn't get any valentines because he or she's not popular and then feels unloved.
I hate it when I don't get any Valentines.

I hate Valentine's Day.
I mean it.
it's all fake.
i have pretty pictures.
from myself...
o0o la la.
it's all so pointless.
this is as near as I'll get
to a dozen roses.
Happy Fuckin Valensdoom's Day...
send me roses.
be mine.
story of my life...
R
a
p
t
u
R
e
j o y ...
fall in love with  me.
take me home.
maybe i'm just bitter...
l
o
v
e

f
a
i
l
e
d

m
e
.
Thank you Saint Valentine,
     Thank you for designating a day for love to prove its absence in my life. Thank you for pointing out that I am not only boy deficient and romantically defunct, but also socially inept. Maybe if I worked for a card or chocolate company, or maybe a florist, or if I was a beauty queen, then I'd appreciate your meaningless and depressing day of superficiality and lies. I'll let the capitolistic bastards that thrive with their businesses get rich because of this lame age-old mating ritual, and I'll continue to be disgusted. Someday the flowers and superficiality will die and I'll have my day. Until then, I'll wear black on this mockery of a holiday, and piss on your grave you fucker.
take me home.
comfort me?
agreed?
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