Always a good excuse to post poetry and kitschy pictures...
Wednesday, February 14th, 2007 10:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mothwingLet me not to the marriage of true minds
Even though I like having another excuse for celebrating my relationship with Crocky, I hate Valentine's Day. Of all invented holidays it is the most superficial one by far. The sheer amount of red roses! The piles of pink hearts! The postcards with excerpts from great poetry yanked out of context and pasted into something adorned with teddy bears and flowers! The piles of chocolate boxes! The expectations floating in the air! The disappointments! It's like being trapped in a teenage nightmare.
And it's another day that draws attention to the fact that people are alone everywhere, another day that makes people shop to quell their guilt for the chances they missed the other 364 days of the year. It's almost as depressing as mother's day or father's day.
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Even though I like having another excuse for celebrating my relationship with Crocky, I hate Valentine's Day. Of all invented holidays it is the most superficial one by far. The sheer amount of red roses! The piles of pink hearts! The postcards with excerpts from great poetry yanked out of context and pasted into something adorned with teddy bears and flowers! The piles of chocolate boxes! The expectations floating in the air! The disappointments! It's like being trapped in a teenage nightmare.
And it's another day that draws attention to the fact that people are alone everywhere, another day that makes people shop to quell their guilt for the chances they missed the other 364 days of the year. It's almost as depressing as mother's day or father's day.
