Like predators out on the prowl for a juicy catch, we haunt the streets and lands, hunting for love and acceptance like our lives depend on it.
But then, perhaps, our lives do depend on love and open-armed acceptance, because every great love story begins with a selfish motive, no matter how pure, everlasting, or impressive it might seem in the end.
It could be the cynic in me that's typing these rather harsh words, but I've come to believe that we all give with an aim to receive, eventually. And if you ask me, love has turned into a difficult game of chess where one wrong move could mean that your King is gone.
I hear silly women crooning feel-good songs proclaiming "If-ya-like-it-then-ya-should've-put-a-ring-on-it!" and it hits me like a tidal wave how these ladies are actually sitting and complaining about how rejected they feel because someone let them go, because someone didn't give them a diamond ring and pop a cheesy proposal. Do I sound like a pompous, bitchy toerag/ intolerable little feminist/ dark, cynical and bitter young woman writing one of those forgettable articles that announce the redundancy of men? Because if I do, that was not the intention.
Not to sound defensive, but I like men. As much as they can possibly be liked considering how temperamental they tend to be and how I severely lack patience when it comes to dealing with such creatures. (Okay, that was my feeble attempt at sounding humorous).
I don't think that the problem lies solely in the male population and its many shortcomings. Popular culture has built up this giant technicolour image of The Ideal Man and how he must treat his woman--no matter how annoying or unlikeable she might be--and it is this very image that goes around and screws up heads of innocents such as myself when we encounter the everyday specimens.
And because of the chemical imbalances created by these notorious technicolour images and how they fall flat on their perfectly carved faces, most women end up getting disappointed with what the real world has to offer.
I think Cupid's job has become way tougher in today's day and age than it has ever been before. The mandatory Facebook/ Twitter background checks that we all tend to do before agreeing to show up for a second date tend to kill the mystery and freshness that are so crucial for the cultivation of those infamous butterflies that flutter their way into letting love bloom into your life.
The loneliness of modern day lifestyles has crept in on all of us single ladies and gentlemen out there, and we've become what can only be called non-believers.
We live for the moment, not believing that we might even be alive tomorrow, not believing that there actually is someone out there who would whole heartedly love me, not believing that I could love someone without wanting to run away from them after a few days, not believing that they don't have any of their own ulterior motives in place..
I'm speaking for myself now, and boy, I've turned into such a sceptic. People tell me it's unhealthy and it's wrong and pessimistic and doesn't go with my general philosophies in life, but I tend to only believe in what I see, hence this cynicism is well-placed and more of a defence mechanism than anything else.
So, as I said at the very beginning of this rant, every great love story has a very selfish, very primal birth, and I suppose if you really even want to have a love story someday, you'll need to succumb to your fears and let go.
As someone told me not so long ago, only when you completely let go can you possibly rejoice. And that, my friends, I need to remember all my life. It would certainly make for a good-looking tattoo, don't you think?
But then, perhaps, our lives do depend on love and open-armed acceptance, because every great love story begins with a selfish motive, no matter how pure, everlasting, or impressive it might seem in the end.
It could be the cynic in me that's typing these rather harsh words, but I've come to believe that we all give with an aim to receive, eventually. And if you ask me, love has turned into a difficult game of chess where one wrong move could mean that your King is gone.
I hear silly women crooning feel-good songs proclaiming "If-ya-like-it-then-ya-should've-put-a-ring-on-it!" and it hits me like a tidal wave how these ladies are actually sitting and complaining about how rejected they feel because someone let them go, because someone didn't give them a diamond ring and pop a cheesy proposal. Do I sound like a pompous, bitchy toerag/ intolerable little feminist/ dark, cynical and bitter young woman writing one of those forgettable articles that announce the redundancy of men? Because if I do, that was not the intention.
Not to sound defensive, but I like men. As much as they can possibly be liked considering how temperamental they tend to be and how I severely lack patience when it comes to dealing with such creatures. (Okay, that was my feeble attempt at sounding humorous).
I don't think that the problem lies solely in the male population and its many shortcomings. Popular culture has built up this giant technicolour image of The Ideal Man and how he must treat his woman--no matter how annoying or unlikeable she might be--and it is this very image that goes around and screws up heads of innocents such as myself when we encounter the everyday specimens.
And because of the chemical imbalances created by these notorious technicolour images and how they fall flat on their perfectly carved faces, most women end up getting disappointed with what the real world has to offer.
I think Cupid's job has become way tougher in today's day and age than it has ever been before. The mandatory Facebook/ Twitter background checks that we all tend to do before agreeing to show up for a second date tend to kill the mystery and freshness that are so crucial for the cultivation of those infamous butterflies that flutter their way into letting love bloom into your life.
The loneliness of modern day lifestyles has crept in on all of us single ladies and gentlemen out there, and we've become what can only be called non-believers.
We live for the moment, not believing that we might even be alive tomorrow, not believing that there actually is someone out there who would whole heartedly love me, not believing that I could love someone without wanting to run away from them after a few days, not believing that they don't have any of their own ulterior motives in place..
I'm speaking for myself now, and boy, I've turned into such a sceptic. People tell me it's unhealthy and it's wrong and pessimistic and doesn't go with my general philosophies in life, but I tend to only believe in what I see, hence this cynicism is well-placed and more of a defence mechanism than anything else.
So, as I said at the very beginning of this rant, every great love story has a very selfish, very primal birth, and I suppose if you really even want to have a love story someday, you'll need to succumb to your fears and let go.
As someone told me not so long ago, only when you completely let go can you possibly rejoice. And that, my friends, I need to remember all my life. It would certainly make for a good-looking tattoo, don't you think?
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