Love is the odor of deception, the ‘let’s stay friends’ deodorant near the toilet bowl

Love is the odor of deception, the ‘let’s stay friends’ deodorant near the toilet bowl.

Interesting subject: ‘the need for love.’ Love is a natural addiction with similar adverse effects and outcomes as any crackhead out there. You can choose your way out of this crap by seeing that love is just a product in the marketplace of community of interests, a commodified good we sell and buy. Otherwise, show me a beautiful, young, educated, nice lady together with an old, unemployed, fat, clueless guy. Show me the impossible love, and I’ll agree love is for free. But this exists only in lying love romances and poetry, because reality is just a commerce where people lie to themselves that they are in love. If ever the object of their love changed, would they still be in love? Love is a grand word we put on 1,000 nonsensical situationships, a loose cap to hide the worms in the can. A dangerous concept that no serious man would consider. Love is the name of a color with which we cover everything and anything to make it seem acceptable to us. Love is the all-purpose ink that transforms anything into its opposite, that hides, that lies. Love is in the blood of the thief and the liar and the priest and the politician, they all have tons of love in stock to attract the common folk like flies to shit. Love is the mother’s milk for her baby, the care of a mother for her child. Love is care and has only one way. Being in need of love is being in need of deception. I know people waiting for 80 years for love and finally finding it in a 20-something Lolita madly loving them while swearing they are not waiting for the looming inheritance. I opted out of this game long ago. I’m loveless. I need no love. Even if it ever comes, I find it suspect. And it’s a shame, because I know what love is, and I’m probably wrong, but for practical purposes, I’m right.