February 14, 2010.

Happy valentine's day massacre. Excuse me while i plug my ears to drown out the sounds of screams of shots and sentimentalities. Wheres does it connect? That love should be made in the midst of mayhem, that babies should be born in the middle of a war, that when you sleep with the dogs, you should wake up covered in fleas. Why is it that when you want to be warm, the cute couples can't look eachother in the eye, your mother kisses your father, i get sick in the stomack. And it isn't that i don't love today, i do, i love candies, flowers, whispers and reminders, but i just don't think we need an event to open our eyes to the obvious. I don't think it's right to love someone once a year. Sometimes when i am in rooms full of people i look at all of then and i think "Every last one of you is going to die" or rather, "Every last one of us, is going to die" and then i start pinpointing a date for each, a month, a year, an accident, a disease, a moment. Today, tomorrow, next month? A man started choking on his breakfast this morning, everyone rushed over to him, Why does everyone begin to care about you when you are on the brink of death, when you display your mortality? We love each other because we are human, we love death because it is human, we rubberneck because we want to see a dead body, a tattered corpe, a broken spine, because we all walk around like we are so tough, so big, so alive, and when we are the most human, the most honest, the most of the most, that is when a stranger will wrap her arms around your waist, when the person beside you will frezze and gape at you in all of your dying glory, when you are choking on a sliver of burnt canadian bacon.

Happy Valentines Day.
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