I love you.
Love-something everyone mistakes as an absolute goal, something worth risking everything to protect. They’ve deluded themselves into thinking love is worth braving sickness or injury or death to protect your beloved like some main character in a Hollywood movie.
‘Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’ is said by people to justify poor decisions. After spending all that time and money on a romantic tryst, only to end up with one partner going: ‘haha fooled you!’ People don’t want to admit the relationship was a mistake so they shrug it off as experience.
For example, when a woman marries a man and the man runs off to wed a younger, and hotter, employee working at the family business, well that’s just how love rolls. Instead of remaining single, it was better I had spent a good part of my life with a piece of trash, cooked his meals, and bore his children.
After all, that’s love~! Hehehehe… would be their logical response.
What a bunch of delusional idiots. Love is an excuse.
Pretty flowers, candlelight dates, and long walks on the beach will not break down the at field inherently separating us all and it certainly won’t advance the goals towards the Human Instrumentality Project. We are all lonely creatures, living isolated from one another terrified of the prospects of being alone. That no one will acknowledge your existence: no one will say ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’ to you. The most deranged of love fetishists dream of a world where they come home from their corporate slave hours to be greeted by ‘welcome home dear. What would you like first: dinner? A bath? Or… perhaps… me?’
Sick people. They’re sick people.
The sick minded should just keep pursuing love. Afterwards they should jump into a volcano-holding hands of course.
Still, that doesn’t change my pure feelings for you.
Love you bro,