Oh, sure, we've all heard of the sugar daddy. We know what he brings to the game. He's got money and is perfectly willing to use it to buy the woman he wants.
But there's another man out there: Splenda Daddy. He'll dote on his lovely lass with all the gusto of a sugar daddy. Telling her what she needs to hear and making sure she's taken care of. But he ain't gonna go broke for no woman no how.
Splenda Daddy vs Sugar Daddy
Sweet Thang: Get me a cool ride.
Sugar Daddy: Here you go baby: a Mercedes convertible.
Splenda Daddy: Here you go baby: It's my old Toyota Corolla. I got the engine fixed for you. Ya, it don't have no back seat anymore.
Sweet Thang: Baby I need some bling.
Sugar Daddy: A diamond necklace and a Sapphire ring.
Splenda Daddy: I got you a ring pop and a candy necklace.
Sweet Thang: I need some clothes.
Sugar Daddy: Prada and Versace. Nothing is too good for my girl.
Splenda Daddy: Let's go to the Gap. My mom gave me a gift card for my last birthday.
Sweet Thang: Take me some place nice.
Sugar Daddy: I'll take you to the best restaurant in town for steak and lobster. Don't forget the champagne. Then we'll go to the club.
Splenda Daddy: I'll make you a steak on the bbq. Then I'll take you to the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica and watch the free street entertainers.
Sweet Thang: Get me plastic surgery so I'll look hotter for you.
Sugar Daddy: You'd better. Here's some cash, get some boobs and fix that face.
Splenda Daddy: You're fine the way you are, but if you want boobs I'll pay for them. But it's going to be on the installment plan, so you'll be lopsided for a few months.
Sweet Thang: I don't have to care about you, do I?
Sugar Daddy: No. Just look good and do what I want when I tell you to.
Splenda Daddy: If you don't then leave.
30 years later
Old Thang: You still want me?
Sugar Daddy: Who the hell are you?
Splenda Daddy: All that money I saved bought us a retirement home in Hawaii. Let's go.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
My dark shame
It happened again today. I slipped up. I try so hard, and it is so wrong.
I hide my shame deep down inside. I push it down and crush it with the vice-like grip of my will.
But I am damaged, warped. Something definitely is askew in my world.
I hide like a beast, frightened of the truth. And I pretend I am successful. Outwardly, I appear mostly normal. I am educated. I have degrees and honors from the workaday society. Occasionally, people even look up to me for my abilities.
But God knows I am unworthy. I feel his steely gaze judging me for my failures.
I lay on the couch, my feet up and feeling fine, when it happened. The TV shifted from the news to commercials and I was undone.
Engine noise blared from the speakers and metal gods rolled across the screen.
"MONSTER TRUCK JAM IN ANAHEIM ON JANUARY 26," the screen blared and my heart lept. "$10 tickets for the kids!!!!"
My gaze is fixed; my mouth drooling, and I do believe a whispered "whooo doggy" escaped my lips.
Thus my dirty shame is revealed. My white trash genes are activated.
That's right,I must admit it, finally. I am white trash.
I put on a Mac Truck hat and a Skoal T-shirt and I feel pride. I tell my hipster friends and educated colleagues that I wear my STP button-up shirt because it's ironic. But that's just a lie.
Inside I crave to chaw and spit and grow my sideburns long. If only I could find a pair of comfortable overalls, I'd never take them off. I want to talk about trucks and hemi's and dual-intake valves. The sight of a tricked out semi gives me the vapors. Sometimes, when no one is around, I feel the need to scream YEEEEE-HAAAAAWWWWW, drink a Budweiser (the KING OF BEERS) and fart the national anthem.
I want to own the NFL Sunday Night Theme song CD. Because I am ready to play some football.
Now you know my shame. Turn away. Turn away.
Top ten white trash meals
1. Chicken fried steak, mashed taters and green beans.
2. Buffalo wings and a PBR.
3. Biscuits and white gravy. (my dad Claude Edward Lindsey's fave)
4. BBQ from a gas station.
5. Frito pie with mac N cheese
6. Anything off a truck
7. Fried chicken, okra and beans. (my Aunt Bobbi and Uncle Skeeters fave. Yes those are real members of my family)
8. Pork chops and greens
9. Beanie Weenies (cut up hot dogs in boston baked beans)
10. Pulled pork samich, tater tots and Green Jello salad (you know the kind with mayo and walnuts in it)
I hide my shame deep down inside. I push it down and crush it with the vice-like grip of my will.
But I am damaged, warped. Something definitely is askew in my world.
I hide like a beast, frightened of the truth. And I pretend I am successful. Outwardly, I appear mostly normal. I am educated. I have degrees and honors from the workaday society. Occasionally, people even look up to me for my abilities.
But God knows I am unworthy. I feel his steely gaze judging me for my failures.
I lay on the couch, my feet up and feeling fine, when it happened. The TV shifted from the news to commercials and I was undone.
Engine noise blared from the speakers and metal gods rolled across the screen.
"MONSTER TRUCK JAM IN ANAHEIM ON JANUARY 26," the screen blared and my heart lept. "$10 tickets for the kids!!!!"
My gaze is fixed; my mouth drooling, and I do believe a whispered "whooo doggy" escaped my lips.
Thus my dirty shame is revealed. My white trash genes are activated.
That's right,I must admit it, finally. I am white trash.
I put on a Mac Truck hat and a Skoal T-shirt and I feel pride. I tell my hipster friends and educated colleagues that I wear my STP button-up shirt because it's ironic. But that's just a lie.
Inside I crave to chaw and spit and grow my sideburns long. If only I could find a pair of comfortable overalls, I'd never take them off. I want to talk about trucks and hemi's and dual-intake valves. The sight of a tricked out semi gives me the vapors. Sometimes, when no one is around, I feel the need to scream YEEEEE-HAAAAAWWWWW, drink a Budweiser (the KING OF BEERS) and fart the national anthem.
I want to own the NFL Sunday Night Theme song CD. Because I am ready to play some football.
Now you know my shame. Turn away. Turn away.
Top ten white trash meals
1. Chicken fried steak, mashed taters and green beans.
2. Buffalo wings and a PBR.
3. Biscuits and white gravy. (my dad Claude Edward Lindsey's fave)
4. BBQ from a gas station.
5. Frito pie with mac N cheese
6. Anything off a truck
7. Fried chicken, okra and beans. (my Aunt Bobbi and Uncle Skeeters fave. Yes those are real members of my family)
8. Pork chops and greens
9. Beanie Weenies (cut up hot dogs in boston baked beans)
10. Pulled pork samich, tater tots and Green Jello salad (you know the kind with mayo and walnuts in it)
Monday, January 3, 2011
Money is the root of all hapiness
Money is the root of all happiness. There, I've said it, and it feels good.
Since caveman Ogg met cavewoman Oggette we have been judged worthy by our wealth. Ogg had two good spears and several fine pelts to woo Oggette, and it was good. He had the means to provide for her and that meant a better chance that their offspring Ogg Jr. and Poindexter would survive. I get that. It's an intrinsic part of animal nature to go with the winner.
It's always been part of our society. Kings and the noble are wealthy and therefore they have control. Would Julius Cesar, a rich, well-connected army general, have had a chance to become emperor if he was little more than a shop owner? No, and there's no argument that's going to change that fact.
OK, let's give the world and humankind that much.
Is that all there is? Is that what we are in the end? A bunch of creatures who only look to those with the obvious trappings of wealth and fall in line behind them?
I have to honestly say, I don't know. There are such things as social and economic revolutions, but they tend to be short-lived and open to corruption from within.
The usual pattern seems to be that the wealthy continue to get wealthy until society at large is so unbalanced that there has to be a reckoning. This usually takes place in the form of a revolution of some kind. It can be anything from a proletariat uprising to something as simple as a return to religious roots that call for a more just distribution of wealth. Heck, it could just be people deciding that being rich isn't everything. That was the upshot of the Depression. The common man was finally championed as a good thing and there was a great reallocation of wealth to the middle class. But in the end that gave way to the rampant consumerism of the 1950s and the eventual creation of a new class of the wealthy.
So, is wealth all there is?
No, of course not. We are much more than that. But it is true that if you don't have the basics, you will look at wealth as the ultimate goal because it eliminates the wants that plague us.
Money isn't the root of happiness, but it sure doesn't hurt. I'm going to buy a megamillions lotto ticket now.
Here's some links for thought.
http://researchnews.osu.edu/archive/relgwlth.htm
http://www.gearbits.com/archives/2010/11/on_wealth_and_s.html
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Wealth
http://www.faculty.fairfield.edu/faculty/hodgson/Courses/so11/stratification/income&wealth.htm
http://www.federalreserve.gov/pubs/oss/oss2/2007/scf2007home.html
Since caveman Ogg met cavewoman Oggette we have been judged worthy by our wealth. Ogg had two good spears and several fine pelts to woo Oggette, and it was good. He had the means to provide for her and that meant a better chance that their offspring Ogg Jr. and Poindexter would survive. I get that. It's an intrinsic part of animal nature to go with the winner.
It's always been part of our society. Kings and the noble are wealthy and therefore they have control. Would Julius Cesar, a rich, well-connected army general, have had a chance to become emperor if he was little more than a shop owner? No, and there's no argument that's going to change that fact.
OK, let's give the world and humankind that much.
Is that all there is? Is that what we are in the end? A bunch of creatures who only look to those with the obvious trappings of wealth and fall in line behind them?
I have to honestly say, I don't know. There are such things as social and economic revolutions, but they tend to be short-lived and open to corruption from within.
The usual pattern seems to be that the wealthy continue to get wealthy until society at large is so unbalanced that there has to be a reckoning. This usually takes place in the form of a revolution of some kind. It can be anything from a proletariat uprising to something as simple as a return to religious roots that call for a more just distribution of wealth. Heck, it could just be people deciding that being rich isn't everything. That was the upshot of the Depression. The common man was finally championed as a good thing and there was a great reallocation of wealth to the middle class. But in the end that gave way to the rampant consumerism of the 1950s and the eventual creation of a new class of the wealthy.
So, is wealth all there is?
No, of course not. We are much more than that. But it is true that if you don't have the basics, you will look at wealth as the ultimate goal because it eliminates the wants that plague us.
Money isn't the root of happiness, but it sure doesn't hurt. I'm going to buy a megamillions lotto ticket now.
Here's some links for thought.
http://researchnews.osu.edu/archive/relgwlth.htm
http://www.gearbits.com/archives/2010/11/on_wealth_and_s.html
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Wealth
http://www.faculty.fairfield.edu/faculty/hodgson/Courses/so11/stratification/income&wealth.htm
http://www.federalreserve.gov/pubs/oss/oss2/2007/scf2007home.html
Friday, December 31, 2010
Say Hello to my little 2011
It's unavoidable when we stand on the precipice of a new year that we look back and give everything that happened the once over before putting it in the memory box. It's just human nature that we try to make sense of our careers, relationships and growth.
Of course, truth is, there's very little sense to be had. Mostly we just react to situations the best we can and hope things turn out for the best. However, that doesn't mean we should stop trying.
I started 2010 with some goals. I achieved some and failed at others. One of the big goals was to return to writing fiction. I finished a few stories, some poems and the first part of a three-part novel. But some projects were left unfinished and that needs to get rectified in 2011.
So, here's my challenge for 2011 -- finish what you start. That's all. Just finish what you start. It's simple and to the point. Think of all the small and big things that we start and only get halfway done. Imagine if you finished every project you started. It's mind blowing, isn't it?
OK here's my bold predictions for 2011.
Aliens will come to Earth, talk to us, meet our leaders and decide the trip was a waste of time.
Researchers will discover that trans fats are the only thing keeping most of us healthy and make recommendations that we all eat 100 oreos a day.
Ditto with smoking.
Gas prices will fall to 25 cents a gallon after most cars are converted to running on trans fats. That's right, trans fats are the new miracle substance.
Nabisco becomes the world's richest company (see predictions 2 and 4).
For some reason Australia becomes a wasteland and only Mel Gibson can save it. (wait that may be a series of movies from the 80s, eh, whatever)
We will have good times with each other including, but not limited to: good meals; companionship; and wacky fun.
Last thoughts on 2010:
Politics: Really? Really? The Tea Party? I oughta slap you.
Religion: Nothing terrible happened in religion this year, so that makes it a great year for religion. No popes died; this year's scandals were the same as last years and the Dalai Llama is still plugging away.
Taxes: I paid my fair share.
Death: It's only death that makes life so precious.
Zombies: No apocalypse this year. Maybe next.
Of course, truth is, there's very little sense to be had. Mostly we just react to situations the best we can and hope things turn out for the best. However, that doesn't mean we should stop trying.
I started 2010 with some goals. I achieved some and failed at others. One of the big goals was to return to writing fiction. I finished a few stories, some poems and the first part of a three-part novel. But some projects were left unfinished and that needs to get rectified in 2011.
So, here's my challenge for 2011 -- finish what you start. That's all. Just finish what you start. It's simple and to the point. Think of all the small and big things that we start and only get halfway done. Imagine if you finished every project you started. It's mind blowing, isn't it?
OK here's my bold predictions for 2011.
Aliens will come to Earth, talk to us, meet our leaders and decide the trip was a waste of time.
Researchers will discover that trans fats are the only thing keeping most of us healthy and make recommendations that we all eat 100 oreos a day.
Ditto with smoking.
Gas prices will fall to 25 cents a gallon after most cars are converted to running on trans fats. That's right, trans fats are the new miracle substance.
Nabisco becomes the world's richest company (see predictions 2 and 4).
For some reason Australia becomes a wasteland and only Mel Gibson can save it. (wait that may be a series of movies from the 80s, eh, whatever)
We will have good times with each other including, but not limited to: good meals; companionship; and wacky fun.
Last thoughts on 2010:
Politics: Really? Really? The Tea Party? I oughta slap you.
Religion: Nothing terrible happened in religion this year, so that makes it a great year for religion. No popes died; this year's scandals were the same as last years and the Dalai Llama is still plugging away.
Taxes: I paid my fair share.
Death: It's only death that makes life so precious.
Zombies: No apocalypse this year. Maybe next.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Santa is awesome. AWESOME I SAY
WHAAT? Some jerk just posted a blog calling Santa evil. How is that possible? For God's sake he brings toys to little kids. What kind of maladjusted human being goes after Santa?
Wait, it was me?
Well, let me just say, I must be wrong. Santa has made children the world over happy for generations and will continue to do so for generations to come. Although, his single-minded obsession with children seems to be a bit creepy. Not to mention that at some point he was supposed to have helpers who were either black or shackled demons.
Still, Santa is an institution. A harbinger of all that is good and heck, Coca Cola has all but given us this holly jolly good-natured fellow. They even say so on their website, "Most people can agree on what Santa Claus looks like -- jolly, with a red suit and a white beard. But he did not always look that way, and Coca-Cola® advertising actually helped shape this modern-day image of Santa. Starting in 1931, magazine ads for Coca-Cola featured St. Nick as a kind, jolly man in a red suit. Because magazines were so widely viewed, and because this image of Santa appeared for more than three decades, the image of Santa most people have today is largely based on our advertising.
Before the 1931 introduction of the Coca-Cola Santa Claus created by artist Haddon Sundblom, the image of Santa ranged from big to small and fat to tall. Santa even appeared as an elf and looked a bit spooky."
Uh, wait, does this mean Santa is an advertising whore? No, I won't believe it. He is Santa DAMNIT.
Now Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He was a shill. He was created by the Montogmery Ward's department store and he was their exclusive property. The song was written by an advertising man.
Now I'm confused. I still say Santa is awesome. Now give me a damn gift you fat bastard.
Top Signs Santa Loves You
1. He left you that inappropriate lingerie. But it was nice lingerie.
2. You take a shower on xmas morning get out and there's a heart with "You my Ho, HO Ho" written in condensation.
3. He gives you something, even if you've been a little naughty.
4. You reach into your stocking and find a Nintendo DS.
5. He ate the cookies and drank the milk.
6. He gave you a Lexus and that jerk of a cousin only got socks.
7. Hey, he brought egg nog.
8. He never asks for anything in return.
9. He left you some Coke. (uh, the drink. Ya.)
10. Duh, gifts.
Wait, it was me?
Well, let me just say, I must be wrong. Santa has made children the world over happy for generations and will continue to do so for generations to come. Although, his single-minded obsession with children seems to be a bit creepy. Not to mention that at some point he was supposed to have helpers who were either black or shackled demons.
Still, Santa is an institution. A harbinger of all that is good and heck, Coca Cola has all but given us this holly jolly good-natured fellow. They even say so on their website, "Most people can agree on what Santa Claus looks like -- jolly, with a red suit and a white beard. But he did not always look that way, and Coca-Cola® advertising actually helped shape this modern-day image of Santa. Starting in 1931, magazine ads for Coca-Cola featured St. Nick as a kind, jolly man in a red suit. Because magazines were so widely viewed, and because this image of Santa appeared for more than three decades, the image of Santa most people have today is largely based on our advertising.
Before the 1931 introduction of the Coca-Cola Santa Claus created by artist Haddon Sundblom, the image of Santa ranged from big to small and fat to tall. Santa even appeared as an elf and looked a bit spooky."
Uh, wait, does this mean Santa is an advertising whore? No, I won't believe it. He is Santa DAMNIT.
Now Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He was a shill. He was created by the Montogmery Ward's department store and he was their exclusive property. The song was written by an advertising man.
Now I'm confused. I still say Santa is awesome. Now give me a damn gift you fat bastard.
Top Signs Santa Loves You
1. He left you that inappropriate lingerie. But it was nice lingerie.
2. You take a shower on xmas morning get out and there's a heart with "You my Ho, HO Ho" written in condensation.
3. He gives you something, even if you've been a little naughty.
4. You reach into your stocking and find a Nintendo DS.
5. He ate the cookies and drank the milk.
6. He gave you a Lexus and that jerk of a cousin only got socks.
7. Hey, he brought egg nog.
8. He never asks for anything in return.
9. He left you some Coke. (uh, the drink. Ya.)
10. Duh, gifts.
Santa is evil, EVIL I SAY
Santa brings toys to all the good little girls and boys. That's the corporate line we've been fed since we were children. But I'm telling you it just aint true.
Santa isn't a good guy. He's pure evil. Who is he to say if someone was naughty or nice? He's a dictator, a renegade making moral judgements about you. Supposedly, he rewards good behavior, but what does he consider good behavior. That behavior, however, is never specifically spelled out. Does it even exist? Who is to say there is an absolute good or evil? Apparently, Santa Claus. It seems to be far to relativistic for me. So, I'm saying there is no good behavior, just behavior he likes and dislikes.
Don't let Santa fool you into his relativstic moralism, bound by social norms and unthinking compliance. Throw off the shackles and chains of Christmas repression.
Top ten signs Santa Hates You
1. It's always me, me, me. How about thinking about Santa for once, you ungrateful little bastards.
2. Know what he made those new gloves out of? Your pony.
3. You were good all year and you still got a lump of coal.
4. He gave your asshole cousin a Lexus and you get socks.
5. You got a Christmas sweater that says "Santa Hates You."
6. You reach into your stocking hoping for yummy candy and you get reindeer poop.
7. You wake up in the morning to find a reindeer head in your bed.
8. Take a hot shower on xmas morning, get out and find "Ho, Ho, Dead" has been written on the mirror's condensation.
9. Why does the nog taste like pee?
10. The holiday ham has been violated.
Bad Things Santa Does in Your House
1. That ain't egg nog in the fridge.
2. He took the last can of Who Hash. (That may not be Santa)
3. He stole your mom's favorite necklace and framed the house cleaner.
4. Two words: Milk backwash.
5. He likes to sniff your dirty socks.
6. His philosophy is, if it's yellow its mellow.
7. Ever wonder why your daughter's cheeks are so rosy? No one else in the family has them.
9. Wonder why that new sweater is all stretched out of shape?
10. In Southern latitudes he wears little more than a thong, and he likes to sit on your couch
Santa isn't a good guy. He's pure evil. Who is he to say if someone was naughty or nice? He's a dictator, a renegade making moral judgements about you. Supposedly, he rewards good behavior, but what does he consider good behavior. That behavior, however, is never specifically spelled out. Does it even exist? Who is to say there is an absolute good or evil? Apparently, Santa Claus. It seems to be far to relativistic for me. So, I'm saying there is no good behavior, just behavior he likes and dislikes.
Don't let Santa fool you into his relativstic moralism, bound by social norms and unthinking compliance. Throw off the shackles and chains of Christmas repression.
Top ten signs Santa Hates You
1. It's always me, me, me. How about thinking about Santa for once, you ungrateful little bastards.
2. Know what he made those new gloves out of? Your pony.
3. You were good all year and you still got a lump of coal.
4. He gave your asshole cousin a Lexus and you get socks.
5. You got a Christmas sweater that says "Santa Hates You."
6. You reach into your stocking hoping for yummy candy and you get reindeer poop.
7. You wake up in the morning to find a reindeer head in your bed.
8. Take a hot shower on xmas morning, get out and find "Ho, Ho, Dead" has been written on the mirror's condensation.
9. Why does the nog taste like pee?
10. The holiday ham has been violated.
Bad Things Santa Does in Your House
1. That ain't egg nog in the fridge.
2. He took the last can of Who Hash. (That may not be Santa)
3. He stole your mom's favorite necklace and framed the house cleaner.
4. Two words: Milk backwash.
5. He likes to sniff your dirty socks.
6. His philosophy is, if it's yellow its mellow.
7. Ever wonder why your daughter's cheeks are so rosy? No one else in the family has them.
9. Wonder why that new sweater is all stretched out of shape?
10. In Southern latitudes he wears little more than a thong, and he likes to sit on your couch
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Work on Snowflake
So, I haven't blogged in a while, and I haven't spent much time on facebook or twitter, either.
Why? Well, social media is a vampire. It sucks out productivity and leaves you with banal one-liners and vapid video chuckles. People post videos or little jokes and mistake that as their own creativity. Normally, I'm OK with that, but not when I'm working on writing.
Here's the deal. I asked people if they wanted me to continue writing a love story called Dancing with Robin and I posted a few paragraphs to show where the idea was going. Only one person said they wanted to see more. That's enough for me. But I decided to ditch the one-week time limit and spend some time actually thinking about what I wanted to write. That part is done and the actual writing has commenced. It should be done in time for Christmas, so consider it your Xmas gift.
Here's what I've decided. First, the story is now called "Snowflake" and it is written in the style of a fairy tale. Why? Because romantic love is a shared fairy tale. We decide to overlook the things we don't like about a person and focus on the qualities that we do like. We are willing to give that person a chance,in other words. That has to be a mutually shared delusion or it becomes one-sided love. So every couple who fall into romantic love, is living in a type of shared delusion.
Is it a bad delusion? No. It's a necessary one. We need to believe. It's intrinsic to our nature as humans and believing in love is the ultimate expression of our nature. It's such a powerful thing that it can change us for the better. It can open us up to the possibility of the world being a better place. And we strive to make it a better place because of love. Dante believed that everything that we do on this earth and in heaven is driven by our belief in love and God's love for us. It is the salvation of mankind to love one another and through that, love the universe.
Everyone is unique and every love is unique, that's why the story's name is now "Snowflake." The two characters in this story are creating their own style of love and they have to create their own world for their love to exist. That's why love is a fairy tale. It's not the real world. All couples live in their own world when love is new. The real test comes as the romantic delusion falls away, and we have to integrate what we have learned in the journey into a life together. But that's another story.
So, look forward to "Snowflake." Oh ya, I've decided it's the first of a four-story arc about different kinds of love. One for each season. This first one is Winter. Romantic love is important in winter because it's a time to look inward and be together. We find warmth together against the cold around us.
That's all for now.
Why? Well, social media is a vampire. It sucks out productivity and leaves you with banal one-liners and vapid video chuckles. People post videos or little jokes and mistake that as their own creativity. Normally, I'm OK with that, but not when I'm working on writing.
Here's the deal. I asked people if they wanted me to continue writing a love story called Dancing with Robin and I posted a few paragraphs to show where the idea was going. Only one person said they wanted to see more. That's enough for me. But I decided to ditch the one-week time limit and spend some time actually thinking about what I wanted to write. That part is done and the actual writing has commenced. It should be done in time for Christmas, so consider it your Xmas gift.
Here's what I've decided. First, the story is now called "Snowflake" and it is written in the style of a fairy tale. Why? Because romantic love is a shared fairy tale. We decide to overlook the things we don't like about a person and focus on the qualities that we do like. We are willing to give that person a chance,in other words. That has to be a mutually shared delusion or it becomes one-sided love. So every couple who fall into romantic love, is living in a type of shared delusion.
Is it a bad delusion? No. It's a necessary one. We need to believe. It's intrinsic to our nature as humans and believing in love is the ultimate expression of our nature. It's such a powerful thing that it can change us for the better. It can open us up to the possibility of the world being a better place. And we strive to make it a better place because of love. Dante believed that everything that we do on this earth and in heaven is driven by our belief in love and God's love for us. It is the salvation of mankind to love one another and through that, love the universe.
Everyone is unique and every love is unique, that's why the story's name is now "Snowflake." The two characters in this story are creating their own style of love and they have to create their own world for their love to exist. That's why love is a fairy tale. It's not the real world. All couples live in their own world when love is new. The real test comes as the romantic delusion falls away, and we have to integrate what we have learned in the journey into a life together. But that's another story.
So, look forward to "Snowflake." Oh ya, I've decided it's the first of a four-story arc about different kinds of love. One for each season. This first one is Winter. Romantic love is important in winter because it's a time to look inward and be together. We find warmth together against the cold around us.
That's all for now.
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