I’m Not Fucking Around

Burn it down, rip it out, demolition, self-destruction, and so on. Something to be said for that. There are times when one would very much like to do so. Insanity, so inviting, with it’s absolute negation of responsibility. Combine it with violence, and there’s pretty much no answer anyone has, aside from sedation.
From the other side: what answer do you have to simple insane violence?
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Or, to follow the suggestion presented by my lousy typing, what answer do you have to wimple inane violence? I know all too well what inane is, but what is, in fact, a wimple? Look, let me wimplify the whole thing for you. I’ll just stop writing now, so don’t even start thinking of the wimplications of it all. Wimplety?
It would appear I am fucking around after all.

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Sex

Sometimes I wonder if my last relationship was simply based on sex. I put a lot of effort in to it (the relationship. Well, I put effort in to the sex too, of course…), I mean, like, love letters, poems, with plenty of pathos and eloquence ladled on. I know that sounds very cynical now, but I meant it, I was dead earnest, and I put a lot of mental energy in to writing my feelings.
In the end, though, I have the feeling it was a chemical thing. Like I was attracted in spite of myself, in spite of my intellect. The woman was something of a bitch, in retrospect, and intellectually not even my lousy equal. She herself complained that I could argue circles around her. But she smelled good. It was something completely new in my experience.
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My music? It wasn’t her music. My taste in Films? It wasn’t hers. The books I read? Well, she hardly read anyway… Okay, there was a certain area where we overlapped, for some reason we liked the same art. So, it seems like it was mostly chemistry… damn she smelled good, and she still does, in my torrid fantasies. And she was wonderful when she was in good spirits. But we couldn’t get along, not even day for day… arguments about stupid little things, arguments about nothing. Arguments about arguing.
Room Full of Mirrors from the Pretenders, lot of help that song is… has nothing to do with it, just happened to be along the way in a random selection… meh.
So, what is love, what is just chemical? I alway thought love is the nonplus ultra. The few relationships I had made this, actually, clear. Though they were not for all time, they were damned long. For me they were for all time, it was just the fucking women who didn’t get it (sorry, you women, I don’t mean it personally, uh, generally… and probably it was all somehow my fault, anyway).
And now, off the whole fucking beat, because today is a random day, I can recommend a song from Adele (God knows I hardly recommend anything truly mainstream, but there are exceptions…), Rumor Has It. Affengeil, as the Germans would say.
And, to make the randomness complete, Saragina Rumba, from 17 Hippies.