massacre.

Happy Valentine's Day!
yeah.
today is the day, duders.
i love it!
y'know it-
i love that lovely lover-ly type jauns.
hopeless romantic doesn't even begin to describe how romantic,
and also how completely F*ing hopeless i seem to be.
...even though it has the only two ingredients right there in it's clearly descriptive name.
umm, right.
anyway,
it's hearts and doilies and lace an' sh!t, and pink clothes and red shoes,
and whatever other other action seems situationally appropriate.
that's right, neighbors-
twenty four whole entire hours of romantic love and candy and cards and flowers
and bubble baths(?), and fancy dinner, and weird grown-up bedroom stuff.
or,
if you're me-
another 'nother night alone with the dog,
carting in firewood,
and eating treats i made all by myself, for myself, all by myself.
awwwwwwwwww, man!
the treats are super flippin' dope, though, yo.
i mean, don't be dumb.
c'mon.
check the anatomically-incomplete cupcake teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!
(yeah, i snuck a couple rock blocks in there, too, so?)
friends,
freeze-dried strawberries ground down into powder
made that frosting taste exactly like farm-fresh summertime sh!t, y'all.
that activation is from the future.
for serious.
and,
i got busy with the holiday-themed sprankles, too.
clearly,
even when it's unrequited cake and decorative dots of sugary bitterness,
i still sweeten the deal by doing too much for no really good reason.
why?
because i always have to take it to eleven,
even if that just looks like me standing in front of a mirror.
ohhhhhhhh.
man, that's a hard style.
but two ones is better than no ones.
awwww.
...and no one is really what i'm reppin' today.
F*!
anyway,
berserker barbarian bakery business is what's up.
i've got glitter in my hair (or what's left of it)
and a sparkly belt somebody left behind wrapped tight around my waist,
like a hug from a very short very metallic person.
a bandy-armed shiny embrace that holds my pants on.
...i think i might be doing it wrong.
***********
be mine.
it's Valentine's sweetheart-type conversational real talk.
a sweet nothing, a plea, and entreaty, a candy-coated anecdote
but,
that's exactly what i said every day,
for a whole decade, kids.
the answer, of course, was 'no'.
the last holiday alone is here.
full-circle, like ghost rings and water rings and smoke rings.
spirits and memories are made to be forgotten,
and remembered,
and marked in passing as they pass on.
it never ends, it just disappears.
i'm a competent and capable communicator, y'all.
my heart is composed of sinew, stone, lava, and so many words.
i think i just told you the other day-
truth tellers can never stop.
and now, when i say be mine?
uh-huh.
i'm talking to myself.
but honestly,
i think it's the first time the answer is emphatically 'yes'.
 it's all really happening,
again and again;
never quiet, never soft.....xoxoxox