Tuesday, May 20, 2014

A LOVE LIKE BEYONCE AND JAY Z

 
 
What is love?
 
 
Is it real?
 
 
 
"WHO WANTS THAT PERFECT LOVE STORY
ANYWAY?
ANYWAY?
CLICHE CLICHE...."
We know your situation is far from perfect, Mrs. ELEVATOR WARS!
 
As I lay in my bed, with nothing but the churning sound of the ceiling fan, I think about love.
I can't help but cynically question it's relevance to my survival on this earth. Earth, a planet full of bullshit aspirations that are spoon fed to the masses to make them feel inadequate. Inadequate, because I am three decades old and a man doesn't caress me in the night. Inadequate, because the happy people on my television have made families by my age. They aren't cuddled with stuffed animals, dreaming like Selena of a love that must be found, because there isn't a man around....
 
 
Meanwhile all I have is Grindr
 
 
Isn't love just a one a syllable little word that we use for the feeling of really liking someone? Isn't it just a whimsical way of describing a chemical reaction? One that could also be experienced by smoking a joint or eating your favorite food while listening to your favorite song?
Is it really more than that? Is it spiritual or predetermined? Is it a bouquet of flowers on Valentines Day? Is it Casablanca, slow motion and gray?
 
 
Personally, I've never felt that I've been in love. No one has given me butterflies, no one has even been interested in me beyond sex. I often feel like I am wasting my life away, drowned in agonizing thoughts about being alone. It feels like a disease of self infliction, that I CRAVE love while I compare myself to others who SEEM to have it.
 
 

"Fuck that happy hoe, I give it less than a year"
Has Hollywood taught me to be a hopeless romantic? Does love really exist or should I just settle for a guy whose company I enjoy? If fireworks don't happen, oh well, because after all, dopamine is just a chemical which can be artificially introduced. Maybe we aren't even meant to be monogamous, maybe we are meant to have sex with many and crack jokes. Not cry in a fetal position on the bathroom floor because Johnny cheated on you with your sister, on Valentines Day. If you never expected love from Johnny, you wouldn't have had to write that suicide note. Just a thought.
 
 
When I was in middle school, I became angry that everything I enjoyed as a kid, was a complete fallacy. I felt lied to. I felt like deprogramming myself from the bullshit of my childhood. I couldn't believe that my parents who were preachers, would lie to me about the existence of Santa Claus, the Easter bunny or the tooth fairy. If they would lie about that, then surely, they could lie about love. Mommy and daddy reveal that Santa is a fake, while later in life, the person you thought you made love to in the back of his Chevy reveals that love is fake.
 
 
 
If Santa was just a way for big business to make a profit at the end of the year, then maybe love always has been a fraud as well. If people didn't think they were in love, they wouldn't spend money on chocolates, flowers and weddings rings. There wouldn't be a multimillion dollar empire surrounding Cupid's arrow, no platinum love songs or Disney movies for parents to spend their money brainwashing their kids with.
 
 
What if love is just a way to get you to conform and consume?
 
Eat this bullshit, until it drives you crazy and kills you...
 
Look at the skyrocketing divorce rates now that society doesn't market itself as Leave it to Beaver. Maybe the advent of Technicolor merely revealed the ugly truth, that life isn't perfect or formulaic. That we are all just animals who need to mate, love was just a black and white cinematic image for the glory of box office sales.
 
I mean if love is anything like Romeo and Juliet, I'll pass. They both ended up dead.
Seems like things would have gone a lot smoother had Romeo saw Juliet as a "THOT" (That Hoe Over There) and Juliet saw Romeo as a good piece of man meat who engaged her with great pillow talk. I doubt poison would have come up in their story had love not been in their Kool Aid.
 
 
And it speaks volumes, that as kids, many of us saw the story of Romeo and Juliet as a beautiful tragedy, something worth aspiring to. A love so strong you would die for it. Damn were we brainwashed! Still are....
Almost sounds like we are all one big cult, glorifying poisoned libations and mesmerized by something intangible.
 
If I were never introduced to the concept of love as a child, I wonder...
 
Would I be a lot happier now?
 
 
 
As cynically as I conceptualize the desire for love, I can't help but get jealous of those couples who seem happy in it. I can't help but close my eyes everyday and imagine what it would feel like to be embraced by someone who truly loves me. I can't help but feel inadequate without it. I can't help but sing the lyrics to "On the Run" by Jay Z and Beyoncé and wish I could relate to them. Music makes me want to ride on the back of someone's motorcycle all caught up in it.
 
 
And I am angry. The powers that be have made me feel lonely, made me question every man that's ever kissed my face. I hate that I strive for something that I can't even understand. I hate that I have to overanalyze each guy instead of just enjoying what is and not worrying about what it is not. Because let's face it, it will never be a 1950's Hollywood picture. It will more than likely be the equivalent to a three minute rap video. Especially since online dating is how us gay men check out the merchandise.
 
And then he's on to the next one...
 
I hate that love feels like the Holy Grail. Something that people fight for, look their entire lives for, only to find that it's just a silly cup that someone used to get wine drunk out of.
It holds no power. It only holds liquid.
 
In my case, tears.
 

Like Beyoncé sings,

Who wants that perfect love story anyway, cliché.

If love is a cliché, why does everyone obsess over it to this day?






Below is my loveless version of Jay Z's "On the Run" Sort of like a remix.



Who wants that perfect love story.....
...I do
Cliche or not
I NEED
WANT
CRAVE

The sound of that galloping horse.
However,
Whoever
May I be transformed
in his arms
Inspired by the raging alarm
Sounded by the fire
Which does more good
Than harm.
At first sight
Bombs explode
Perfection not expected
Even with potholes
In the road.
Ugly salvation
Much better
Than the kiss of a toad.
These pages I write
Film I cut
I'll never cease the fight
I believe in you
The future pulls at my gut.
Hysterically crying
Keeping prayer on a pew
Daydreaming of how I'll meet you
Maybe you're lonely too
Hurt by more than a few.

In the midst of these crocodiles
Fraudulent smiles
And fake profiles
I maintain HOPE
of three piece suits
at the end of an aisle.

Though life's been tough
Pieces of me
Lost in the fray
I've saved my best melody
Just so you can press play

I'll never give it all away
Never give it up
None of it away
Until
You come my way
Here to stay.


-Isayaah "D.Myst" Parker

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