WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE!!!! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!!!
Welcome to Angry Autistic Rants, a sub series of posts where I choose something that bothers/irritates me and blogs about it with nothing but raw emotion. For this post we shall dive into a holiday that I find utterly pointless and should die in a fire.
As you reach the end of January, you instantly start to notice that there’s something ominous in the air. You can’t quite put your finger on it but you know that there’s something off. There’s an influx of jewelry commercials, there are way too many love songs on the radio but it all comes full circle when you walk into a store and are reminded what day is around the corner. Suddenly your mind is filled with flashbacks as pain as the feelings of loneliness come rushing back. Your heart starts to hurt as you are now reminded that Valentines Day is approaching. There aren’t enough words in the world or pages in a book or even space on the wordpress database to describe how much I despise Valentines Day. I could write a Harry Potter sized novel about how much I hate the day and it still wouldn’t scratch the surface. Every year when I walk into a CVS, Walmart, or any other store with a “Valentines Day” section it tends to trigger a ton of memories, memories of my attempts at love gone terribly wrong. If I could start fires and contain them to one section and keep people safe in the process I would torch the Valentines section of every single store I walked into. Scary shit huh? I promise I’m not some pyromaniac and that thought of torching that section is more of a twisted fantasy created from my sometimes fucked imagination than it is an urge or impulse. Those reading are now wondering what could have possibly happened on the only day in the calender year that we treat our significant others like kings and queens to warrant such rage and sadistic thoughts. A lot went wrong in my life for me to get to this point. Now in earlier blog posts I have covered some of my romance woes but I never exactly started at the beginning but before I do, I have to share a few of my older My Space blog posts in order to get that pain across. Back in high school I blogged of my life but in those days I blogged with nothing but raw unfiltered emotion. The next three blogs are from an angry, lonely, depressed, and even sexually frustrated 17-20 year old me on the matter of this most unfortunate holiday.