Monday, February 14, 2005

I'm sorry. I really am. I just can't help it. Yes, it's a stupid Hallmark holiday like so many others and it doesn't mean anything and if someone really loved you they wouldn't need one day a year set aside to tell you that with stupid marketing schemes that turn the whole world red and pink for a month. I'm tempted to join the ranks of the embittered (p.s., this is interesting in a moronic sort of way):

"1. Valentines Day
Definition: A pointless and worthless day invented by Hersheys Confectionary Co and joining forces with Teleflora Florists and Corbans Wine Makers just so they can profit out of Wine, Cholocates and Flowers, while single people suffer at the clutches of the hands of this evil and corrupt capitalist-orientated day that is not even a fucking holiday period. Valentines Day should be banned and all those celebrating it shot."

I suppose I've fallen victim to the marketing schemes. I know what today is, whether I want to or not. It's all up in my face. It's not the flowers or the gifts or the chocolates or the cards -few men have unlocked the mystery of Maria's worldly desires (mostly because they're aren't many tangible ones). It's the moments. Kisses - the electricity, the way your senses heighten while your world shrinks for just seconds. The way you work into a routine, and mostly things are every day, but sometimes they look at you and you can hear them loving you. Secret, loaded smiles in crowded rooms. Giggling. All night talks. Fierce debates. Dancing. Nudity. Talking in whispers. All that stuff that is currently making at least 5 people I know experience projectile vomiting. Valentine's, schmalentine's. One moment? Just one?

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