The Absurdity of love

Greetings to everyone here today that have sat down and decided to listen to my kind of a rant,
kind of an appreciation to something I and most certainly you as well are passionate about.
That this is, unsurprisingly coming from a pretentious retard, love. If I were to ask you what love
is to you, what would be your answer? It could go along the lines of something comfy,
something warm, something worthwhile, but if I were you, my answer would be "we just got
here and you expect us to entertain your very subjective question? You really are testing our
patience". And well, all these answers are valid, including mine by the way. However, love could
be bitter, love could be cold and love can and will hurt. Love is absurd, love is everything and
yet is nothing. Love is everywhere yet hard to find. Love is--. Let me tell you a story, more
melodramatic than than tv dramas, more lenghty than one piece, more cheesy than half of my
jokes and only half as coherent as my face. Pp

The world is monotonous, repetetive and for all intents and purposes, meaningless. Like a
tumbleweed, you barely tumble your way to the next cactus with its cactits. You feel nothing,
you feel empty like that one item on the test that you could've swore you read somewhere but
decided to throw in the towel and leave it blank. But then, as unexpectedly as your uncle's
hand, someone comes in and rocks your world (I'll be talking in a male pov since that is,
apparently, what I am). She's beauty, she's grace, she's got a profile picture of gorgeous face
and has her profile locked with a period for a bio. She's a short-haired chinita with glasses, she's
gothic or at least she thinks she is, she's antisocial and clearly has underlying mental issues. You
see her and is lime "woah, I bet I could make her mine" even with your asymmetrical face that
looks like a cross between a monkey and well, a monkey, you take the courage to get to know
her. But you don't, everytime you look in the mirror, you feel like you are not enough, you are
not important and you ARE right. She doesn't even see you, you are nothing to her, she doesn't
know you exsi-. Oh shit, did she just look at you? Did you just make eye contact? Pack your bags
and kiss your mom goodbye as your getting married and have a family of 4, live somewhere in
the suburban parts of the city. Oh wait, that didn't happen again. Was there any meaning to it?
Am I special? What is everything? Is there meaning to everything? This goes on for quite a while

Janfranz M. Sanchez Gr. 11-Ptolemy

until you finally had the balls to do something about your situation. With your fingers on vibrate
mode and vibrators on finger mode, you very sweatily type a message to chat to the love of
your life, the apple of your eye, your muse your-. Ohh, she replied? That's nice, oh what's that?
You kept a stable conversation with her? And what?! She asked for your MBTI? YOU HAVE THE
SAME ONE? I guess there is no sleeping tonight then, no, there is no sleeping this week at all.
You're so happy you would jump around if you can, your expectations and imagination is going
wild, kinky even. You find out that she's more unstable than what you initially thought, oh well,
you're corrosive and that's a match made in heaven. You start talking more, you feel
something, no for sure she likes you back right? RIGHT? it's been a week since you started
talking, there's absolutely no way in all hell that this is platonic still. You soend all day and all
night talking about nothing in particular. You feel warm talking to her, you feel like nothing else
matters, you finally feel genuinely happy. Oh boy is this goin well, I sure do hope this doesn't
end (spoilers, it does). Confident that she likes you back? Why not confess? So that's exactly
what you do. You feel what you felt when you first sent that first message again. That
jumpiness, the anxiety, the excitement all over again. So you do, you reach your heart towards
her expecting her to do the same. But that's when you were wrong, that's when you were
crushed. So what was all that then? What did it all mean? Was that all nothing? Like for real?
Ohhh, I get it, was it all a dream and that you are still getting hard on crayons arranged a certain
way. Although it hurts, no, you have to face the music even if it goes "san mig layt impi layt". I
know this sounds bad but life's like that sometimes. Like a videogame boss fight, when you fall,
you have to stand up again and face the same boss with the exact same strategy without
revision, and that's exactly what you do. Like worms in somebody's intestine, you cling on,
draining her in the process, but unbeknownst to you, she has been chugging down pesticedes.
Both of you grow tired, weak and apathetic. Suddenly, your oh so cute picture perfect love
started turning grey, cold, and rotten. You feel numb again, your drained again, everything is,
once again, monotonous. You still hope still, you hipe that she would reconsider, why wouldn't
she right? But no, as expected, she starts ignoring you. You two grow distant, slowly but surely.
Eventually, communication gets harder and even the smallest of hellos feel risky. You're tired,
you're REALLY tired. It sure is cold outside but it's much colder inside, up to ten times even. The

Janfranz M. Sanchez Gr. 11-Ptolemy

world becomes much more unbearable than before. You just want to shoot your face clean of
your head. Was it worth it? Was it all for nothing? Are you happy it happened? Only you can tell
for sure.

As you can see, or hear in this case, love is absurd. Love brings you to your highest highs but
also drag you down to your lowest lows. Love makes you feel alive but also makes you want to
shoot a bullet straight through your brain. Even after all this, after the speech that you half
listened to, half hoping that the speaking would shut the fuck up, like seriously, how can
someone whit such an ugly, flat face act so insightful about something they have yet to
experience? And with that note, what was this speech anyway? Was it slash serious, slash joke,
or slash half joke? It got pretty retarded near the end. Anyways, thanks for listening and have a
good but never great life.

Janfranz M. Sanchez Gr. 11-Ptolemy