If we can call it such, it is. I sit and wonder why would we celebrate such a thing so arbitrary. I know the whole St. Valentine story, and all that other crap people tell you, but really it's just another way to hold on to your precious belongings and be owned by people. I prefer to not even recognize what's going around me. I let the milk chocolate mortars and sweetheart snipers do their job, and i sit back and laugh a the incessant drama. Drama Drama Drama. You wouldn't think working in a tiny little restaurant there'd be so much drama, but it swirls around that place like an evil cloud. You can't even Sit in the parking lot without seeing the black cloud circling above that place. He's fucking her, she likes him her and him are doing such but she doesn't like that he's hanging out with her. So and So did this and now they screwed me over, Somebody did nothing and now everybody's gotta do something. SHe doesn't like her and her sister said something last time she was in here that made her uncomfortable. Him and her once had something but now they don't and he doesn't like him and how he's always around her.
I love drowning in the cesspool of society. Good thing I'm just another drop.