"love"

(when w/ your "significant other"😉 is nothing but an obsession. in my opinion, it should be a psychological disorder. it is a very dangerous and harmful thing. it may cause deep depression, and even drive people to commit suicide. it also causes people to become dependent on that one person, some people become addicted to relationships to the point that they can not live on their own. when they break up w/ someone, they must find somebody else. people admittedly do very stupid things they wouldnt normally do over their obsession for this person. why doesn't anybody see this as a stupid tradition that should be dropped? people find "love" only because they are raised to believe that is right and there is no other way, not because it is logical.

"Love is the aftertaste in your mouth when the client is already gone"
(Xin Kung Paoh)

Originally posted by EcstremeVenom
people find "love" only because they are raised to believe that is right and there is no other way, not because it is logical.

Applying logic to sex yields interesting results, one of which could be you loitering in the public toilets with intent ... Let us know how it works out.

Originally posted by Bosse de Nage
Applying logic to sex yields interesting results

Mr. Spock?

Hipsters!

😛

Originally posted by Palynka
Mr. Spock?

Good example.

He got married recently, you know.

The post that was quoted here has been removed

Beautiful piece of poetry.

Who's the author?

Originally posted by Seitse
Beautiful piece of poetry.

Who's the author?

Strikes me as an original piece!

Originally posted by Bosse de Nage
Strikes me as an original piece!

And it's WAY above a handful of the crap winning poetry contests these days, mate.

My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly express'd;
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 147

Oh, Shakespeare... yes... same old thing.

Guy's overated, jeez.

lol