Don't be Scared, I'm Just Venting

I'm not really this bitter - honestly. But just for the record, think this needs to be said.

Dear Love,

Fuck you.

That’s right, screw you and the horse you rode in on. You and your misconceptions and misgivings. Your sugar coated pre-pubescence is intolerable. You are intolerable. How many a good man has gone down in the wake of your vicious floods? In the aftermath of your formidable tirades? Damn you straight to hell. The hell that you dredge up from the bubbling ground every time your name is mentioned. Do you ever get sick of being used? Of being bought and sold like the one dimensional cavity that you are?

You tricked us.... all of us. Tricked us into thinking that you were somehow necessary. That you in some way, any way, enriched our lives. Let me tell you what you have done for me, broke my heart and stole my dignity. You took the years of my life I will never have back. You looked me in the eyes and said four simple words: you, are, not, worthy.

I hate you. I hate every incarnation of you. I hate the guilt, because I love them, I hate the heartbreak because I love them, and I hate the twisted demented way in which you inject yourself into the smallest moments in some exasperated attempt to force me to need. Listen here and listen well. YOU NEED US. I do not need you, what you need is our ravaged decaying carcases to implant your sick self- procreating egg sack. You need every Rom-Com, every Valentine’s Day, every maladjusted miscreants hopelessness to posses and propagate. You need every depressed housewife’s helpless plea with a husband that ignores her. You need every voice that cries out in loneliness, that cries out in pain – and hope. You need the blonde hair and big breasts, you need to make this all unattainable, you need to make it transient and wash it away.

How about this? I give you nothing; I spend not one more moment of my life in pursuit, contemplation, or resentment of you. I take every day and I start to live it, without you. And when you do find me again? I’ll be ready. So good luck to you on your journey, there are plenty of sad pathetic debilitates out there ready and willing to sign on the dotted line. But I sir? I say fuck you.

Just to curb the massive negativity, I think I need to end this on a better note. As only Woody Allen can... :).

Woody Allen - Love and Death Final Scene