Happy Valentine’s Day

Gentle Readers, this weekend is the most bullshit holiday in the history of ridiculous commercialised holidays.

Valentine’s Day.

A day so associated now with overblown gestures, scarlet hearts and overstuffed teddy bears, that the purpose of Valentine’s Day has been lost. Oh, wait, no, sorry, I just received a message from the producer…Valentine’s Day’s only purpose is to generate income for Hallmark and Thornton’s.

My apologies.

hate the idea that we have one day dedicated a year to “telling someone we love them”. And actually, these days, it isn’t even about telling someone you love them, more that they “make your fanny feel funny” (an grotesque card I saw in the supermarket the other day – on sale for the offensive price of £3.50). A day I loathe and hate and despite, and NOT because I’m single.

I hate it because I think we spend too much of our time not remembering to appreciate the people we do love, not remembering to tell them, not remembering that everyone’s ego needs a little stroke. I SAID EGO, DON’T BE FILTHY.

So, I thought, today, ahead of stupid Valentine’s bullshit getting everywhere, I would take this opportunity to shout out to you wonderful people in my life.

Then I thought, fuck it. I’ll not bother. I’ll just leave this nice passage from The Prophet here, so you can all think about what you’ve done. Look, I don’t even know where I’m going with this. I’m writing this at 11pm on Thursday evening, having been out in the pub with my mate Nikki all evening, and I’m absolutely off my tits on Pepsi and ribs. Seriously, I ate a whole rack of ribs for dinner. Don’t even know why, I just kept going, they were DELICIOUS. Also, we laughed so hard I nearly weed a bit.

ANYWAY, The Prophet. Love. Have a good weekend, readers, I hope Cupid brings you an attractive lover with huge…potential, or a massive…bank account, depending on your preferences. And if he doesn’t, I hope you find good chocolates on sale on Monday.

Then said Almitra, “Speak to us of Love.”

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them.

And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, I am in the heart of God.”

And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.



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