These are the times that try men’s souls. Actually, not hardly, but perhaps. Regardless, I do feel as if I am having an inner-struggle with my current blogging habits. You see, since we last spoke on that ghost post, I have since started a new blog over on OpenSalon.com. I know. I felt really weird about it. I mean, I felt kind of guilty. And I felt…like a cheater. That’s right. A blog cheater. Quite possibly one of the worst kinds of cheater to be. And it got me down.
But then, I realized what needed to be done:
I had to set-out to make these two blogs different. And I believe that is just what I have done. Kind of.
Therefore, it will be the goal of this blog to continue talking important stuff and the goal of the other to document my academic quests in the world of English. Or something like it.
Which makes sense, at least to me, and I think it will work. However, this post is going to have to be an exception. I plan on copying and pasting these here words onto the other blog as well. Yep.
Okay, let’s settle into it, and please go ahead and realize that this is a heavy post, as I have always wanted to discuss religion with you, but I was never really certain about it. Well, the time is now. Okay. Ready. Set. Go:
As a reader of the blog, you know that the blog likes to get down with some stuff that makes our brilliant little minds work. You know, the sort of stuff that we can ponder whilst sippin’ on some tazo tea. Or, you know, gin and juice. Whatever your poison, we need things to think about. Which got me to thinking about a really awesome person in the groovy world of thinkin’. That person is the inspiration for this post, and also, the original T-Pain[e].
That’s right and damn straight. We are gonna talk Thomas Paine. So put on those thinking caps and lock-n-load into some common sense, it’s about to get real up in this bitch.
Alright kids, this summer I have been taking two summer classes, appropriately enough. One of the classes is Music Appreciation. And, by the way, I thought I already appreciated music and I suppose I did, but now, I appreciate it even more. Let’s hear it for Gregorian chants and blastin’ opera. Second, the other class I have been taking is American Literature. Which has been quite delightful as well. Our fine and free country has housed some really great writers.
SIDENOTE: I feel it’s important for me to dwell on that for a little bit. My teacher of that American Lit class brought to my attention that, really, it didn’t take our country much time to start producing writers that are still considered world-class. There’s something to be said for that, Amurrica.
And, on that topic, I found myself getting really into some Thomas Paine. I am pretty sure that he was a total bad-ass. And I think that’s why I like him so much, but most importantly, I finally got a chance in my academic career to write a paper about The Age of Reason: An Investigation of True and Fabulous Theology. Ah, it felt right to italicize that. Sweet, sweet rules of punctuation.
Anyhow, I might not do it anymore. It gets exhausting after a cool minute. OKAY, finally, it’s time to really discuss it with you, my wonderful reader. I know you’re super excited. If not: ‘the hell’s wrong with you? THIS IS IMPORTANT STUFF WE’RE DOING HERE. And don’t you ever forget it.
DISCLAIMER: Okay, so, here at the blog, it is never my intention to step on your political, religious, spiritual, or none-of-the-above toes. So, keep that in my mind. It’s a blog, not a revival or a call to revolt, or anything ridiculous like that.
Alright. Now, back in the diz-ay, T-Pain[e] was doing his thing and people were loving him for it. They thought, holy smokes. What a bitchin pamphlet. And so, they read his works and they got down with his words and he was, once again, a bad-ass. But here’s the thing, I believe what qualifies him to be a true bad-ass were his musings on Christianity. Now, here’s where it got tricky for our good friend T-Pain[e].
You see, people thought he was off. And, with that publication of his Deistic work, he lost nearly all of his credibility. And he lost it because he went against some pretty crucial stuff that those good folks held near and dear. But hey! It makes sense!
So, let’s talk Deism. And let’s set-out to really establish The Age of Reason: An Investigation of [yadda yadda yadda] as something of great importance.
Wowsers. That was a fine intro. High-five, me.
Here we go, good reader:
Now, Deism, in its true definition, is “a belief in God based on reason rather than revelation and involving the view that God has set the universe in motion but does not interfere with how it runs.” Get it? Okay, if you need further explanation, our buddy T-Pain[e] most notably said of himself that “my mind is my own church.”
I believe that clarifies it. So, what he was establishing [at least to me] was this whole idea that sure, there is something bigger and better at work, here, but that doesn’t mean that we have to go to some sort of institution while dressed in our khakis and button-downs to get it. Furthermore, it’s the idea that the stuff around us [i.e. nature] is where any sort of religion needs to gather its roots, pun definitely intended.
Let me give you a for-instance: when I was a Senior in high school, way back in the day, [insert wink here] we were to do a Senior sermon at my church. And it was a pretty big deal for me, as it should have been. And so I won’t quote it in any great length, but the gist of the whole thing was something along the lines of this:
A few months before I gave the sermon, a classmate of mine died in this really random tragedy. And it was awful. And when I went to his funeral, and I saw his little sister I just couldn’t wrap my head around any of it. The whole thing was uncalled for. And all anyone could do was accept it and try to get something out of it. And then move on.
Well, I know this is getting heavy, but I have an uplifting point. The point is that when I got back in the car I was really emotional, obviously, and during the drive, something hit the windshield. Guess what it was? That’s right, it was the remains of some rude ass bird’s last meal hitting with impressive fervor. And it was funny. And right there in some big, huge, adult situation, something really silly happened: a bird shit on the car.
This is what I am talking about. Religion, spirituality, that whole song-and-dance, should rest easy in not having to be some big, opulent revelation or miracle or anything like that. It should be something that, if you’re looking for it, you’ll see it.
I didn’t expect to go into that with you, but I’m glad I did.
And I believe that’s what Thomas Paine was trying to say. He was trying to say that our religion doesn’t have to be like anyone else’s. We don’t have to go into the same building on the same day and sing the same songs and read the same passages to claim religion. We don’t have to support the same politics or the same social issues to establish ourselves as believers. And we sure as hell don’t have to falsely believe anything we don’t believe. No one wants to be a phony.
We can’t all expect to have the same relationship with the same person. In fact, that whole belief just seems silly, now doesn’t it?
And I don’t want anything to get misconstrued [although I am sure it will] What I am saying is that religion, or, in this respect, Christianity, can mean different things to different people. And rightfully so. I believe that’s the intention. I think God’s the kind of guy [or lady ???] that would laugh at the right times and get what it is I am trying to say. I don’t think that God is sitting around with a naughty and nice list. Being a Christian means, to me, having a relationship with God. And that relationship is unique.
I don’t think God minds where we are or what we’re doing. I think he’s just there for us if we need him. Kind of like the opposite of an over-bearing parent. Or like a library. Go with me on this: God is like a library because a library is there. They have books I can read. And I can read them and I can interpret them however I want to. And if they don’t have the book that I need, I can go to a different library or to the store. And the library won’t mind. If I buy a book at Books-A-Million one week, and then go to check-out another book at the library the next week, the library will still accept my card. No feelings will be hurt.
Explanation: the different books are different religions. I can pick and choose what to believe and still return to home base.
Perhaps that’s not what Deism truly is, and perhaps I don’t really care what Deism really means. I mean, we just established that we in no way have to fit a label to fit into a religion. I think that’s where it all gets confused. We try awfully hard to find something that we can jump up and say “Yes! That is what I believe!”
And I suppose it’s okay to believe all of something. In fact, I sort of envy people who do, but I can’t. I shouldn’t have to tell people what I believe to establish my credibility as a spiritual person. And if I try to explain to them what it is I do believe, I find that people act like I need to be enlightened. Guess what? I have. And they should read the blog.
I realize I’m going off on a bit of a rant, but religion is a tricky little thing. And rightfully so.
In the end, I don’t have any real authority in your life, but I do want to tell you that it is just a-okay with me if you pull from different belief systems and create your own groovy little spiritual revival. I think the people upstairs will high-five us for it. After all, we'll finally be using our common sense and we’ll finally be getting it right.
Revolution!
Yours,
katie beth
with today’s inspiration: the original T-Pain[e]
Is it time for a new post? I’m thinkin yes. And so, let’s settle into it. You know what I’ve been thinking a lot about lately? I bet you can’t guess, but if you could, you might be tempted to say some things like “coffee,” or “The Constitution,” or “bagels,” or even “The Divine Command Theory.” And let me tell you something, all of those guesses would be so painfully correct, but they’re not the direct basis of this here new post.
So, if you kept on listing things, trying to find the actual topic of this post, and if you guessed “Xenotransplantation,” not only would you be right, but I’d also be awfully impressed. Now, I realize that seems like a heavy topic and son-of-a-b, it sure as hell is, but more than that, it’s downright interesting and it’s super-important.
In order to set the scene, I first have to tell you that I ended up with a B in Philosophy. Upon first learning of my grade, it was a kind of depressing thing for me. Cause, here’s what: that was definitely some of the most interesting stuff I’ve heard in years. I mean really. So, when you don’t get the top grade, you feel a little down about yourself. And really, you start to question it all.
But hold on, cause then I realized it would be kind of silly to award a shiny A in Philosophy. Because I mean, that would mean that I fully understood everything that was taught to me, and I don’t. And that’s the best part. And I’ve got to tell you something: I have never been happier about a B. Really. It’s a good thing.
Anyhow, you might be currently asking yourself, “Wait. What in the hell is Xenotransplantation?” And it’s to that question that I tell you to cool your jets, cause I’m fixing to fill you in.
In my Philosophy class, right there towards the end, we watched a PBS documentary called “Organ Farm.” Now, I have to tell you that I don’t know where it is that I stand on the whole thing. I mean, it’s a big issue, but really, I guess it’s not an issue any longer if it’s already going on. And I can see the pros and I can certainly see the cons.
Holy smokes. Wait a second, you need a definition. Okay, Xenotransplantation is a big, fun n’ fancy word that basically means that we inject animals with human DNA, raise them, and harvest their organs for human transplantation. And then, you know, hope for the best. And, in this PBS flick, the animals being used are pigs.
And I gotta tell you, at first, I felt sorry for the cute little things, but then I thought, well, our society has no problem [at least for the majority] with justifying killing pigs for nothing more than a little breakfast side-dish. And then I felt like a jerk, but there’s certainly something more exploitive about this whole organ farm thing. It seems, as barbaric as it may sound, natural to kill an animal and eat it. That’s been going on for years, and that certainly isn’t to say that it’s right, but the idea of re-harvesting a species just so that we can have hearts and kidneys on stand-by feels egotistical.
And get ready, cause here’s where the Philosophy really sets in with this whole topic of Speciesism. I mean, I guess we’re all guilty of it, cause most of us eat animals. But let me tell you something. I was a vegetarian once for a day. And it was the worst day of my life. And I don’t feel guilty about it, cause I treat animals with respect. I mean, I feel like I at least give them a proper send off by really appreciating them as good food. Oh, gees. Now I just feel sick.
And I appreciated that these doctors, who are of obvious brilliance that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to achieve, allowed cameras to document what’s happening inside their big, white, top-secret warehouses. Regardless of how I or anyone else feels about it, there’s no denying the historical significance, but then I really start to wonder whether or not these brilliant scientists aren’t just on some super-warped power trip. If I had the ability and the know-how to dominate a species that can’t speak for itself just to save a member of my own species, I don’t know how I’d handle that power, but just because we’ve learned enough to keep on advancing in these “scientific breakthroughs,” well, that certainly doesn’t justify us actually doing so.
Furthermore, this whole “AIDS II” thing really makes me want to take a back-seat. Undeniably, being able to give the people who patiently wait exactly what they need to get up out of their hospital beds and live-out the rest of their life would be wonderful. I mean really.
I’m sure that I would be whistling a different tune [if I could actually whistle] if I found out tomorrow that I had to have a heart transplant. I think that I would see it as such that I could, in fact, die waiting for a human heart. And, hell, if that’s going to be the case, then I might as well put it all out there and go for it. Sure, sign me up for a pig heart, but then again, what if we did manifest AIDS II? In that respect, the good would not outweigh the bad. Because even though I would live with this new beating heart, I could have the potential to wipe-out the entire human race. I’m sure that’s not what those auspicious white-clothed scientists set-out to achieve.
Cause it’s really scary. Because we don’t know what kind of disease could mutate, because it’s something that we would have never seen before, we would have no way of testing for it. You can’t test for something that you’ve never seen before.
And it really seems nothing short of disgusting that these drug companies are funding this whole endeavor. Really, I’m sure that a lot of the doctors and the scientists who were interviewed in this good-time PBS movie genuinely do see all the good in what they’re doing, but it probably goes without saying that the drug companies only see dollar signs.
The disgust sure would lie within using and exploiting pigs, but it really lies within the reality that these cures aren’t being funded so that we’ll have some pretty little rainbows-and-sunshine ending to our heartbreaking situations. The funding is being granted so that yet another big-time medicine franchise can get going, so that the drug companies can make even more gargantuan amounts of money. And, of course, with these shiny new genetically manifested organs, we’ll live longer. And living longer sure does mean that we’ll need even more treatments and more medicine. And more reasons to turn ourselves into hypochondriacs every time we switch on the TV.
SCREW THOSE DRUG ADS AND THEIR GENERAL SYMPTOMS OF THEIR MADE-UP ILLNESSESS AND THEIR WORD VOMIT LISTING OF LIFE-THREATENING SIDE-EFFECTS. Those things ruin perfectly good television.
Side effects may include, but are not limited to: DEATH WITHOUT PURPOSE. Holy smokes. Wouldn’t that just be the worst?
Inevitably, if [when] this really does take-off, I wonder how they’ll advertise it. I wonder what pretty little pictures they’ll use to make us feel like what’s been done is completely justified because big-time ivy league graduates have researched and developed it, just for us.
Just because “smart people” are doing it, doesn’t mean it’s a “smart idea.”
Moreover, on the video aspect, I can’t understand how these extremely educated people could say some of the things they were saying. It doesn’t take an important diploma to see that a cold, metal room with tons of plastic enveloping every table is not, at all, “a pig-friendly environment.” I mean really. At some point, you start to realize that these scientists aren’t just giving us the facts. They’re pitching the idea. They’re promoting it and trying to make it sound as cuddly as possible. And by stating that they’re “trying to make [the pigs’] lives as pleasant as possible” well, that’s a ridiculous thing to say. If they were, in fact, doing so, all they’d really need is some mud.
I realize that’s an overstatement of what they’re saying. I realize that what they’re doing is nothing short of incredible, but I also realize that a lot of the interviews felt contrived and rehearsed. It seemed as though the doctors were given a list of little phrases to try and work in. For instance, “it will change the face of medicine forever,” or “it creates a set of options for physicians,” but the reality is that we’re constantly searching for something else to secure our own best interests, no matter the cost, both literally and figuratively.
Hello speciesism. It’s nice to see you again.
Anyhow, let me sum this topic on up with the following, because I just, ever so confidently, added “xenotransplantation” to my e-lectronic dictionary. So, let’s hear it for seemingly logical innovation at the cheap little cost of swine exploitation in some top-secret warehouse. Justification lies in the reasoning that we’re human and pigs ain’t. Rest in peace, benevolence. We’ll bury you right-next to Hippocrates and his oath. Speciesism looks better on us, anyhow.
Gees, guys.
Well, that wasn’t too heavy, was it? I hope not. I also would like to congratulate the undoubtedly few who actually made it to the end of this post. And just when I thought you couldn’t get any cooler. Way to keep with it, my good and beautiful reader.
At any rate, I guess you now see why this class was so down-right awesome. And there’s more to come. Cause I really like talking about it. I hope you like reading it. Alright, now that this post is over, you know I always invite you and honestly implore you to stick around and enjoy some of those tunes. I think you and me both need some background music while we sit around and ponder all that is “xenotransplantation.” And really, ponder all that is the blog.
Now, go eat some bacon.
Yours,
katie beth
Hey, wait a second. Did you know that James Earl Jones had an incapacitating stutter until he was fourteen? Well, just thought I’d throw t
hat out there.
My friends, it has been far too long, and I’ve really missed talking with you. Anyhow, just to set the scene, it is currently 2:43 in the pm, and I was sort of watching a show that was all about the promiscuity of the Egyptians. Don’t worry. It’s on the History Channel, so it’s completely legit. And I find it kind of funny, the way these intelligent-sounding British people are scrutinizing over clues into the intimate-lives of ancient people. It’s pretty weird the way we treat people of those civilizations like everything they did was some huge, thought-out plan to become these great people and pillars of excellence.
We always hold them in the highest of regards and never-ever think that they were just people in a different time. I mean really, they couldn’t have been all that different from the current people kickin’ it here on earth today.
Which got me to thinking about History. And I think I’m going to keep-on capitalizing it. Yes, I think that works out well.
First, I’d like to share with you a story:
There’s this girl and she’s in about three of my classes and I don’t want to sound mean, but I feel like I can be real with you and you’ll know that when I say that she sort of ticks me off, you’ll know that I really mean it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.
Anyhow, she was in my Philosophy class, which is confusing in-and-of-itself, because the class is called, “Values and Society,” but our teacher told us that it’s an ethics course, and then she said it was an ethics course from the viewpoint of Philosophy. So, I call it a Philosophy class, and I think that’s a fair-enough title. And, so far, I’ve learned a lot, and I feel like it’s important stuff to be learning, but it’s a little frustrating because we just sort of get introduced to these incredible minds and then we move onto the next. So, naturally, I take it upon myself to come home and really get to know the people that I’m learning about.
Anyway, the girl I was talking about [and don’t worry, I’m pretty sure she’ll never make her way to the blog. Mainly because she’s not cool enough] well, she says that she’s real-into History. And she often refers to herself as a “History Nerd,” whatever the hell that is.
At any rate, when I heard her say that and then I heard her say that she hated her Philosophy class, I felt a little confused. And I said that “Philosophy is History.” And she said, “not really.”
Let me tell you something, girl-that’s-starting-to-really-wear-on-me, History didn’t kick-off in 1776. And, anyway, she never has her facts straight. When she was talking all about Hitler, she was wrong, but I didn’t correct her too much because I didn’t want to seem like a know-it-all. I think that’s a bad thing for a person to be, but don’t refer to yourself as someone who really knows their shit when you don’t.
Yes, that’s some of the advice of today’s post, and it’s my hope that it’s advice that you’ll heed. Anyhow, I just really felt like sharing that with you. Also, I think she’s dropped the class. That’s okay. She didn’t really add anything to it anyway, other than raising her hand and asking “is this going to be on the test?” Therefore, ruining a perfectly good discussion.
And, she was talking a little smack about the English teacher she has and it was the same one I had. She says he’s incompetent because he doesn’t like her style of writing. He gave me As because I’m boss. Really. I wrote a lot of good stuff in that class. I’ll let you read some of my work sometime.
Well, guys, I hope that doesn’t put me into a bitter light in your mind, because I’m really going to give her the benefit of the doubt, and maybe we’ll become friends. I doubt it. She calls me “sweetie” a lot and it freaks me out. I don’t mind being called that. No, I really don’t, but it’s weird, the way she says it. And it’s weird because she’s really short. For some reason, that makes it weird. And I’m 5.gay4, so that means she’s pretty short. I guess I just feel like I’m being called “sweetie” by a kid.
And I don’t know if she’s older or younger than me. I think we might be the same age, but gees, I feel like I’m light-years ahead of her in age. Really. If that’s how all nineteen year-olds talked and acted, the future of this world would really be screwed. Thankfully, not all of us are like that.
Also, on the great topic of History, it’s important for you and me both to remember that the main reason why History is so cool is because everything that just happened is History.
And even though it’s only been about a week since we last spoke, here on the blog, I feel the need to update you on my current History.
Last weekend, I got to hang out with my cousins, Clayton, Elli, and Ethan. And I really got to hang out with them. And let me tell you something: those kids are pretty-alright. First, we all went to Warriors Path State Park and we immediately took ourselves to that awesome playground they have. Elli and I brought along my deck of cards that I always have with me, for just-in-cases, and headed over to a table to play Speed. And we pretended like we were from different countries and I think people really believed that she was British and that I was from New Zealand. Elli, Ethan, and myself really got to have some fun later on with one of those great balls that they sell at the grocery store and they keep them in those big nets. Anyway, we invented ridiculous amounts of games and we played hardcore. It was great.
Second, I made a 95 on my paper about gay marriage. And I was really proud because I think it’s really important and if it meant that gay marriage was going to legalized, I would honestly lay down in front of a moving train, cause it’s that important. I hope you think so, too.
Unfortunately, a member of my incredible family was in a really awful car accident later in the week. It was the sort of situation where the people who are hired and trained to immediately rush to the scene were shocked that he was even alive. And what’s really incredible is that he didn’t receive hardly any injuries. I know that I often question it all, and I think that’s okay, but stuff like that makes me really think that there’s got to be something bigger going on here. There just has to be.
And, on the lighter side of things, I found my strawberry Chapstick, which had been missing for a little while, and it has taken back its rightful place on my nightstand. Also, I planted, (with the guidance of my mom, who has an eternally green-thumb) some flowers around the tree in the front yard, and they’re starting to really show progress. It’s a pretty neat thing. And I know that you want to hear about Nelson, and he’s still doing really well. Especially now, since we’re starting to get to use the sunroof more and more each day.
And, I have been working diligently with my Academic Work Scholarship. Actually, not hardly. I pretty much sit in front of a computer for a good long while, but it’s okay. It gives me a chance to learn new things about the lives of friends, via Facebook, it forces me to study a little more, and it really gives me great lighting for reading my latest editions of The New Yorker. Which I am really into. I get way too excited when a new one comes in the mail. Especially the poetry. You should really look it up and read some of them. They feature some pretty incredible people like my new literary friend W.S. Merwin. He is beyond any sort of tangible greatness.
Also, I made a new friend, as a direct result. She has the same scholarship and she’s really quite nice. We discuss future career plans, which is cool, because I’m nineteen and she’s somewhere around forty. I really respect that about her.
What’s more, I had a really interesting conversation with my speech teacher and a fellow classmate about the current state of our country. It was nice to hear that not all hope has been lost. I’m glad to know that there are still some people out there who are as fervently optimistic as I am. And I’m not going to get too political here, because I think there’s a family that doesn’t really like me because I did get a little political, which I didn’t mind. I like standing up for the things I support, cause if I didn’t, I would be a phony, and that’s not something I want to be.
Also, I got to meet a really cool dog named wall-e. And then, some time was spent with the equally cool people who get to live with him. I feel safe in saying that a good time was had by all.
And today, I learned that my new Columbia rain jacket was well-worth the trip to Dick’s and well-worth the money. Mainly because it has this really-secret hood that you can zip up so it looks like a collar. Then, like a mighty rain ninja, you can unzip it and you have a hood and, therefore, ultimate protection from the rain.
Last, I just realized how much I say “really” while writing these posts, but I don’t think it’s an overabundance.
Well, guys, those may or may not seem like great or impressive accomplishments in a week’s time, but they sure did mean a lot to me. I hope you’ll take the time to assess what’s happened to you in a week. I think you’ll be impressed with your ability to be impressed with big things and little things alike, in your very own History.
I sure do hope that all is well with you and your life. And, as always, I sure do appreciate you taking the time to read what I have to say. It really does mean more than you could imagine.
And also, I am now going to settle-in and learn about the lost city of Atlantis, which, by the way, was first referenced in the works of Plato, a Philosopher. And it’s on the History Channel. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, cause that's genuine History.
Yours this week and the next and the rest after that,
katie beth
In my Philosophy class, I sit directly behind two lesbians who, everyday, share a diet mountain dew. Do you think that’s what this whole holiday is about? So, I’m not gay and I don’t think I’d like diet mountain dew, but I get the point and I hope you do, too. Let’s meet up and give each other flowers, cause that's what it’s all about. Right?
What if we’re wrong? Will anyone notice? Probably not. Valentine’s day is the perfect opportunity for a skeptic to hash out viral verbiage about card companies and Hershey’s getting their jollies, but it’s something that we all want, and that’s the most tragic part about this whole thing. We all just want to be noticed, to be liked, and, in the end, to be loved. It’s a real pity and a serious cry for help.
So, let’s talk about this whole Valentine’s day thing. I mean, let’s really talk about it. Feel free to chime in whenever you see fit. And if you feel like reading on, I already like you even more than when you clicked on this. I don’t know the history of Valentine’s day and I couldn’t tell you one damn thing about Saint Valentine and I don’t really care. I’m not going to get all ridiculous and look that stuff up because it seems pretty irrelevant to a modern day discussion of this red and pink holiday that forces us to reassess our lives in sad little ways.
You may think that you don’t care about Valentine’s day. You may totally avoid those aisles in the stores that are decked out in hearts. Don’t worry, it’s okay, I do it, too. I guess the most depressing thing about Valentine’s day is thinking to the point of almost knowing that you’re gonna have one. Just when that little crush of yours spirals into constant thoughts of a really cool person, a little thing called reality steps out of that obnoxiously realistic room and slaps the hell out of you. And let me tell you something, that shit hurts.
It doesn’t hurt in a normal way, though. It hurts by how much your cheeks start to blush cause you’re so damn embarrassed for ever thinking you even stood a chance. What idiots we all must be, thinking we could make this crapshoot of a day be anything more then, well, crap.
I don’t mean to dog this day. I’m sure that there are at least a few people out there who still feel optimistic about February 14th. Here’s the shocker: I’m one of them. I realize that I sound all dungeons and dragons about it, but I really hope that things turn around, even if it is just once. I don’t think Valentine’s day meant to bring us all down. That poor little guy was trying to lift us up; lift us up with a day solely dedicated to those people in our lives that make us do nothing else but think about them. And how do we repay Valentine’s day? We give each other cheap chocolates. Is that the best we can come up with?
You see, even if you do have a Valentine, you’re still setting yourself up for major disappointment because nobody gets it anymore, and I don’t really know if they ever did. As a direct result of never having a Valentine, I’ve had plenty of time to think about how it should really go down. And I gotta tell ya: I got nothin. I guess that’s the point. Whoever that person is that you think you’ve really got a little somethin goin with is supposed to get it. They’re supposed to get exactly what you’ve always been dreaming of, even if you never dreamed it.
Isn’t that just awful? We’re not mind readers, even though we might like to be.
Re: the person that I wish was my Valentine:
I wouldn’t know what to get you. And that’s the point. You don’t give a gift to someone on Valentine’s day to show them that you love them. Instead, you wake up on the morning of February 14th and your gift is already there. The gift is that you have someone to love.
Well, guys, that’s all I got. For Valentine’s day, I hope you remember this little writing and I hope you got it. Anyway, it’s been real. Thanks for reading. Head on back over to Facebook and let me know how you’re feelin about it, cause I’d really like to know. Sorry it got a little sentimental. I hope it didn’t put you off.
Yours,
katie beth
