Just spent the last 30 mins jamming to T swiz in the bathroom, and felt the burning urge to write here about my favouritest of favourite topics of all time; love. Gag. Nah but seriously, I need to get this ramblefuck out of my system somewhere or else the next person I just happen to be drunk-reflective with will get the butt end of this brain-shit. SO I've decided do a a massive dump here. Is that okay with everyone? (by everyone I mean my 1-2 dedicated readers who are probably responsible for half the views on this page)... but alright. Love. damnit. Love.
I'm a reformed hopeless romantic. NOT meaning I'm any less hopeless or any less romantic; just a different mixture of the two. I don't believe in monogamy to an extent now - not wholly, anyway. I believe it's achievable, I just doubt that humanity was programmed to do it. It's hard to admit, but the reality of romance IS a hopeless one. To find one love is to fight against all odds; it's commitment and compromise. But on top of that, love is not a once in a lifetime thing. People can - and do - have lifetime loves - but some people have twenty. It doesn't make them any less severe, or breathtaking, or ...necessary.
But what makes it real? Isn't it utterly subjective? I think so. I was chatting with a friend the other day, and we were trying to think of the most romantic thing that has ever happened to us. The most obvious thing dawned on me at that very moment - not only did most of my stupid stories involve food (lel, typical) - but they were all so ridiculously mundane compared to other stories I have heard in my lifetime. Things like a drive to the pharmacy for neurofen... or 10 chicken nuggets after a fight; these moments came up in my brain so vividly I couldn't think of anything else.
"You deserve someone who adores you." they say.
Best-friends, sisters, and even drunken girls in the bathrooms of grimy clubs will tell you this. But what do they mean? Do they mean presents and public screams of affection? I'm not sure. You know what? That stuff essentially means jack all. I'm certain it helps relationships for some people, sure. But from my experience even that can leave you empty. It feels hypocritical to say - being one of those obnoxious humans myself that has posted constantly about my love life in the past - but I do successfully realise the superficiality of my past ways. It's not like I'm going to stop. If something makes me happy, I'll share it: it's who I am. But I shouldn't let it define the very essence of what it's supposed to represent.
This is where it gets confusing. How do you know someone adores you once superficial displays of adoration are disregarded? How do you know you're being cared for that extra little bit over everyone else? That's what's frieking getting to me about love tonight. You never really just know. It's honestly getting on my nerves, to the existential breaking point of wondering whether anyone has actually ever been in love with me. CRAZY: that's what dwelling on the concept of love does to people
This whole Cinderella-upbringing I've had has immensely fucked me up. I put way too much emphasis on the entire concept of romance. It's actually doing my head in. Psychology and theories of affection aren't helping either... sigh. I think I need to stop writing because this is starting to actually not make any sense at all.
So there is tonight's brain poo. In all it's gooey lovey dovey glory.
It really had no start, no middle, and effectively no end.
But I just needed to write it because It makes me feel better. Mmm. I feel better.
More t-swizzle now
Ciao x
