Pure brain-bleeding id

and there are no diamonds in the mine

Leonard Cohen with I'm Your Man wrote the most romantic lyrics ever put to paper, and I bet he didn't get that girl back, and if that's the case, that woman should kill herself. Because if you're not moved by those words, certainly you have no soul nor will you ever. Nothing tops the romanticism of that song.

"But a man never got a woman back, not by begging on his knees. Or I'd crawl to you baby and I'd fall at your feet and I'd howl at your beauty like dog in heat, and I'd claw at your heart and I'd tear at your sheet and say, please, please!"

and in my life's parallel there's a girl rare like a diamond that you'd give up all your nails just to introduce to your parents. So they'd be proud, and a little more at ease with mortality. "My boy's on the right path," your father would utter. It would satiate some childhood need for approval. But most of all your focus would be on the girl, and you'd want to woo her with the most romantic notions you could think of.

Girl, you're like 1,000 Playstation 10s glued together. Got that, got that right? It's not even out yet. You're next gen. You're 1,000 computer consoles the size of bloodcells, running through my brain and veins and fixing up the busted pipes like Home Improvement or Pipe Dream. That's right baby, you're a 1,000 Playstations and a million whatever the opposite of spit is. Call me.

Look, I'm no Leonard Cohen.

But I deserve love just much. And maybe I don't have poetry in my veins. Maybe I don't have music in my heart. Maybe I lack a single ounce of charm. But by God I do have one thing, and that's statistical probability! With eternity as my witness and under the dictation of the cosmos, that much is written.

1 comment:

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