Stupid lovey-lovey images, in honor of Valentine's Day. Not all of them are mine, but I don't know who to credit.
I love the idea of being in love, even though I never have been.
I don't think I could fall in love with a person. People are too complicated.
I could fall in love with a pear tree or a blue jay, a square of silk, or a whistling wind. I have fallen in and out of love with the sun a hundred times. He and I, we don't have the healthiest relationship.
But that's another story.
The only people who love me are the ones who have to by laws of nature; my family. There are no geeky boyfriends, no crushes, no hugs and kisses, no 'dating,' no 'relationships,' and there never have been.
And that is just how it should be for me. Sometimes I think I want to delve into that element of life, but I don't. People are too volatile, I've seen too many reputations ruined and hearts broken because of what they call love. Those schoolroom couples don't seem genuine, not a true definition of what I call love.
I think if I go on, I am not going to make a lot of sense. (See first picture.)
On a less whimsical, more down-to-earth, solid-ground note, my family is thinking about taking a little overnight trip to Monterey. We have the entire week off for no particular reason, but free time is filling up fast with softball, movie dates and the like, a hefty school project, and now this possible mini-trip.
I am willing to throw aside that project for a couple days and cancel any plans; I am ecstatic to hear of maybe maybe maybe, a visit to my true love, the sea.
If I ever become beautiful I will give myself to its waters. If I live to be old, I will die on an empty shore. I really hope that this trip happens after all.
Because I really, really love the sea.
You can probably tell I'm in a strange and sprightly mood. I think I need to bottle up now, before I spill any more inky insanity from my mind through my fingertips.
I'm not usually like this, promise. Just let me be crazy for a minute.