On Love... A distorted history of all times...

Okay lets talk about love, tell me what is love really, I mean isn’t it like an emotion, at least that’s what I believed until all these people started feeding me all these new ideas of ‘falling’ in love (making it appear like wide open chasm of nothingness) and the depth of the ocean of love, now where do you go about getting an idea like that, you don’t fall in sadness or happiness do you, then how and why love and even if we (for a moment) assume that love is a physical space in which you do ‘fall’. Why do people carry it around with them, to lay on the ground at convenient points of time only to fall into, if that isn’t the case then the other probability is that love is omnipresent, if so then why the hell don’t we fall into it while look at another man, or a woman we’re not remotely interested in, now that reminds, isn’t love supposed to be blind, then how the explain the following statistic that 99% of all couples consist of partners who may be considered equally attractive in their respective sexes by the opposite ones. Any way, maybe all that is just a coincidence, lets just get back to humans and their selective plunges into the depths of something that (even though there are strong arguments of disagreement) is described as an emotion. And the best part is “love” always “hurts” so why the hell don’t you parachute your way down, or hold on to the other guy you’re going down with, unless, everyone has a hole to themselves which they can retreat into when they are done having sex.

I mean, come on, love is definitely a new emotion, it might be even called an invention of the new world, life existed before love, all one really needs is the art of making it, and we don’t even need to call it that (‘they’ do though, so we might as well, otherwise we don’t get any), instead term it having sex… truthful and effective, short and sweet (I hope not), Birds and bees, stings and spewing venom, and then the spread of wings and flying away.

I truly think some smart witch in the early centuries created a giant and a big pot and ordered the giant to ‘pick’ interesting men ‘up’ (hence the phrase) and put them in the giant pot, where she (and all her ugliness) would lie waiting, panting, wanting, desiring, and the poor men for lack of anything better to do would do it with her only to be thrown out of the pot soon after… the pot was called “LOVE”.

Then these men and other artisans united from across the world and decided to create a magical pot called “LOVE” of their own, they tried and tried and tried again, until man perfected the ART of MAKING “LOVE”, and this ancestral knowledge has been passed from man to man, generation to generation, and now truly forgotten is the art only a few handfuls of mortal souls still practice the act of sex in a large bowl (pots are passé you see) while still others mistake their bowels for bowls and are satisfied within themselves, any way… “Sex will make more people and more people will make more sex”, oh and yeah before I forget… “Love will find a way… to hurt you.” (Yes love your friendly neighborhood voyeur, Love. He’s like a sex maniac, you know. Lock your doors at night, or not, going by everything that’s been written about him, he will find a way to hurt you, THE BASTARD.)