In Between Days

 

Do you think people who can write words like

There’s a hole in the roof for the stars to fall in
I gather them up for you

Ever considered attachment theory or love languages or any of the other bullshit that places like Reddit like to peddle as fact? 

Do you think Bukowski when he was fucking one of the big tit women from the race track ever thought “I wonder what her love language is.  I better find out so I can write poetry about her later.”

Do you suppose when Romeo fell in love with Juliet he gave two shits what her score on the Myers-Briggs personality test was?  When he drank that vial of poison do you think he stopped to ponder if maybe he was getting just a bit too attached to ol’ Juliet over there?

If he had, what would Shakespeare have written about?

What kind of modern day love stories will we be reading about in 20 years when this generation of kids meet on places like Tik Tok and their love songs to each other begin with “Bitch, I’m a ghost.”  And then they dance for each other through heavily applied filters that hide every crease or blemish on their faces.

By the way.  Have you studied the theory of attachment and do you know which attachment style you are?  

And while we’re talking about that, can you go take this test and get back to me and let me know what your love language is?  This is super important before we proceed into any type of partnership.

There’s also this emotional IQ test I need you to take and where exactly do you fall on the Myers-Briggs?
I need you to input that into your data when you plug in our compatibility.

Less important is your zodiac sign and which phase of the moon you were born in and if the stars were shining super bright or just mildly bright when your head crested your moms hoo-haa.  Or if you were a C-baby and born during the day, was the sun behind a cloud or was it raining??? Snow?  Tornadoes??  Oh my.  This might take a while.  

You’re super cute and fun but it’s just not going to work unless I get your spec sheet soon.

I’m already starting to lose interest. 

You pronounced your “th” more like a “d” and that’s just not going to work for me. 
You’ve got a hole in the corner of your eye.  You said it was from your mom popping a chicken pox or something like that.
It’s a no for me.
I’m really sorry. 
Actually I’m not sorry at all. 
There are 16 other people in my inbox right now and they’ve already sent me their test results and at least 4 nudes and 12 boob shots so I’m sorry but that selfie you took in the car is just not doing it for me. 
But….
Can you bend over and show me your ass?  I need to know if I might want to stuff my dick in it before I call you later tonight.  

 

If you spend any time on the internet, you will inevitably come to understand that nothing is ever your fault.  It’s so obviously their fault and you should just pick your heart up from off the floor and dust it off and put that sucker right back in your chest and shake your ass provocatively as you walk out the door and wait for all the man-meat that is now going to appear in your DMs because the world is literally your mother-fucking oyster and there is an abundance of pearls out there just waiting for a chance to do the two step with you.

So Fuck Them and Fuck Them Again.

Buh-Bye.

This is what we’re doing now. 

I mean, duh.