Hey everyone, it's time to get hot and bothered--once again, as it is yearly, St. Harlequin's Day is upon us.
Forget flowers, forget chocolate, do not pass GO, do not collect $200 (unless you didn't get paid last payday,) and instead head straight for the whiskey and 'shine. Today isn't a time to spend wasting on thy fellow kin, it's a day to be angry about all the things that are unfair in this world--anything that is unfair for anyone. In fact, anything that pissed thee off yesterday, why not vent it all today. Glare, growl, and let the bugbears have it! All in the name of the day. Today is a day to rant, rave, and carry on like someone is listening.
Go ahead and be mad as hell, and don't take it anymore.
Though, today isn't completely about violence catharsis, it is about all of those people who shouldn't be bottling it up. Who suffered quietly through the gentle and annoying ministrations of Hallmark's cupid cronies the day before, who have taken their fill of papercuts from cards, sleepless nights from the sounds next door, and just want to strangle someone in a fit of rage. It's about how badly life has treated thee, how the market for romance is a dried up pond with fish flopping at the bottom. No more tears--but those shining tears of anger.
Life's wit is sharper than any irony and cuts more deeply than any drama. And yet, today, we can cut it down with our own vices and billowing frustratios. Don't take Harlequin's Day sitting down, unless its cominga long with a very deep glass of a very strong liqeur.
Swear up a storm, knock back a firey spirit, and be willing to be filled up with all the resonance of that long supressed and languishing roar.
Forget flowers, forget chocolate, do not pass GO, do not collect $200 (unless you didn't get paid last payday,) and instead head straight for the whiskey and 'shine. Today isn't a time to spend wasting on thy fellow kin, it's a day to be angry about all the things that are unfair in this world--anything that is unfair for anyone. In fact, anything that pissed thee off yesterday, why not vent it all today. Glare, growl, and let the bugbears have it! All in the name of the day. Today is a day to rant, rave, and carry on like someone is listening.
Go ahead and be mad as hell, and don't take it anymore.
Though, today isn't completely about violence catharsis, it is about all of those people who shouldn't be bottling it up. Who suffered quietly through the gentle and annoying ministrations of Hallmark's cupid cronies the day before, who have taken their fill of papercuts from cards, sleepless nights from the sounds next door, and just want to strangle someone in a fit of rage. It's about how badly life has treated thee, how the market for romance is a dried up pond with fish flopping at the bottom. No more tears--but those shining tears of anger.
Life's wit is sharper than any irony and cuts more deeply than any drama. And yet, today, we can cut it down with our own vices and billowing frustratios. Don't take Harlequin's Day sitting down, unless its cominga long with a very deep glass of a very strong liqeur.
Swear up a storm, knock back a firey spirit, and be willing to be filled up with all the resonance of that long supressed and languishing roar.
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