Snake in the Apple Tree
NB: Do not read this post if you've fallen in love with someone that is now DEAD.
"Perfection as evil. Of course you are, you must be. But perfection is subject to subjectivity. Oh, there's the perfection of absolute moral codes and justices, but that's not you! No... You are the snake in the apple tree, false temptation - the *unobtainable*. It makes sense, right? And the fact that your voice sounds precisely like Liz Hurley's in Bedazzled is just further evidence that your sinister machinations have escaped the underworld and dwelt on earth like some awful, soul-dementing creature of the night."
That's an extract of an e-mail I actually sent to the Morning Star, explaining her paradoxical knack for combining utter perfection with absolute evil. She loved it.
But, my personal flavour of pillow-talk aside, what the flaming hell was I talking about? Hrm.
She's perfect in every way, but completely unobtainable to you. That's my premise. Let's assume that her perfection isn't to do with her situation or environment - her perfection is completely based on what you think of her soul. So how's she so evilly unobtainable?
Lives far away? Coincidental and transient fact. Not eternal divide.
She's in love with someone else? Tricky one! But again, transient. That's less unobtainable than if she were dead: *Fine*!
She's dead! Liar.
Her ex is a psycho rabbit-boiler? Kill the bastard. (read: calmly have him arrested)
Her right leg is wooden? What???
How about she just doesn't want you? Nope. She wants it in the ass.
No, those, and any other reason you'd care to come up with coupled with any arguments against my answers up there mean a great big fuck-all to unobtainability. None have a finality which is total (except the death scenario - if that's the case, then you know; fuck off - I'm not covering that one).
See, the underlying unattainability is borne of the fact that you've *made* her so perfect that she doesn't even exist except in your own fucked up melodrama. You've given her a persona that sits on a winged horse atop a diamond pedestal, in the highest turret of a citadel constructed from the tusks of mammoths. Why the fuck did you do that, eh? Mammoths? Freak.
Perfection has to be evil because absolute perfection cannot exist in any other form than a false temptation. You made it up. Like the snake in the apple tree, the massive cunt in your head fed you fat on false knowledge. So, in my original e-mail, it's not so much that *she* is the snake in the apple tree. Nor is *she* the false temptation - she's just a very good starting point for it. It's *me* that's the snake in the apple tree, channelling false temptation to myself, in some self-destructive way that only the irrationally hopeless could do.
So yes, let's all get back on the roundabout of love. It's so much sodding fun. Until you get off, dizzy and dependant, throwing up over yourself to the tuts of your logical mind.
Tut, tut motherfucking tut.
"Perfection as evil. Of course you are, you must be. But perfection is subject to subjectivity. Oh, there's the perfection of absolute moral codes and justices, but that's not you! No... You are the snake in the apple tree, false temptation - the *unobtainable*. It makes sense, right? And the fact that your voice sounds precisely like Liz Hurley's in Bedazzled is just further evidence that your sinister machinations have escaped the underworld and dwelt on earth like some awful, soul-dementing creature of the night."
That's an extract of an e-mail I actually sent to the Morning Star, explaining her paradoxical knack for combining utter perfection with absolute evil. She loved it.
But, my personal flavour of pillow-talk aside, what the flaming hell was I talking about? Hrm.
She's perfect in every way, but completely unobtainable to you. That's my premise. Let's assume that her perfection isn't to do with her situation or environment - her perfection is completely based on what you think of her soul. So how's she so evilly unobtainable?
Lives far away? Coincidental and transient fact. Not eternal divide.
She's in love with someone else? Tricky one! But again, transient. That's less unobtainable than if she were dead: *Fine*!
She's dead! Liar.
Her ex is a psycho rabbit-boiler? Kill the bastard. (read: calmly have him arrested)
Her right leg is wooden? What???
How about she just doesn't want you? Nope. She wants it in the ass.
No, those, and any other reason you'd care to come up with coupled with any arguments against my answers up there mean a great big fuck-all to unobtainability. None have a finality which is total (except the death scenario - if that's the case, then you know; fuck off - I'm not covering that one).
See, the underlying unattainability is borne of the fact that you've *made* her so perfect that she doesn't even exist except in your own fucked up melodrama. You've given her a persona that sits on a winged horse atop a diamond pedestal, in the highest turret of a citadel constructed from the tusks of mammoths. Why the fuck did you do that, eh? Mammoths? Freak.
Perfection has to be evil because absolute perfection cannot exist in any other form than a false temptation. You made it up. Like the snake in the apple tree, the massive cunt in your head fed you fat on false knowledge. So, in my original e-mail, it's not so much that *she* is the snake in the apple tree. Nor is *she* the false temptation - she's just a very good starting point for it. It's *me* that's the snake in the apple tree, channelling false temptation to myself, in some self-destructive way that only the irrationally hopeless could do.
So yes, let's all get back on the roundabout of love. It's so much sodding fun. Until you get off, dizzy and dependant, throwing up over yourself to the tuts of your logical mind.
Tut, tut motherfucking tut.
posted by Juliet is Bleeding... | 12:34 pm
