Now with all that mess behind us, we can continue with your regular program. Having stood in for two "different" people for almost a year left me Xauztid, so you will probably be seeing less posts in the upcoming months, but of a higher quality. Additionally we will begin focusing on issues of a higher social and individual importance, such as LGBTsTvTgTmQAZ issues (the Z is for anything the other letters don't cover), Chromeopathic medicine, and dyed Latin roots. I hope you're as excited as me. This afternoon we being with a topic near to me, the refusal of love.

"Don't waste a friend by making him a lover."

Flirtation is nature. Every animal has its own specific methods. Some appeal visually, some aurally, and some in ways we have no measurements or descriptions for. Only, with other animals, we never call it flirting, nor do we call it seduction, unless we're being cute. We call it mating. This is because it has a purpose. Animals have no artificial assigned attachments about sex, except humans. We question sex, fear it and most despicably use it as well as its product for psychological and material manipulation and benefit. Humans are disgusting, and more than any aspect of the human mating process, the fact that it involves humans is personally what disgusts me the most, except maybe the end product of that process... which would be more humans.

While novelty science consistently presents "new findings" trying to correlate our insistence on the emotional and (dwindling) moral effects of monogamy, but if any two animals do remain together, it is for more complex reasons, and Absolutely more Practical ones, than human reasoning offers. Certainly moreso than just liking each other. And even though it's one of the most harmful facets of universal society (when one takes into account all direct and Indirect results), I myself find that I watch pretty potentials pass (quickly) by--as disgusting as the visual of me romantically piqued must make you, for this I apologize.

But unlike animals, attraction fails as or more often as than not to lead to mating. There is no routine or observable patterns. We are attracted and protract this into hours, months, of longing doubting fantasizing developing phobias out of insecurities. This is stupid unproductive and humiliating, and as or more often than not, it's all in vain because if one does eventually gather the sense to act on a physiological impulse, one needs permission which is never given without superficial sacrafice, and oftentimes not even then. Unrequited admiration is an unhealthy, but I argue, preferable form of human interaction.

The familiar stargazing metaphor analogizes well here. We, in poetry painting and mysticism, of both high and low quality, address consult and romanticize the stars (all out of proportion). The stars are distant. They are as small as we are, from our point of perception. We feel connected, comfortable. The only personality they hold is what we apply. Stars guide us and reflect us.

But what is a star when viewed closely? Stars are grotesque balls of heat and fire. They don't actually twinkle. They aren't actually tiny. But it's so easy to forget that, thankfully, from our vantage point and continue to imagine the formations they form in the sky and ask them questions and let them grant us wishes.

And such is the same with a distant beauty. While we feel an attraction but suppress an impulse an odd but wonderful phenomenon begins occurring. I don't need to explain it or provide a metaphor since many of the age's finest music describes it succinctly and without my pretentious airrors. It's immediate poignance, isn't it, knowing someone exists as a near automaton onto whom one can attach all one's ideals, even though the back of one's mind immediately refutes such idiocy and this diametric duel takes place under the umbrella of doubt that assures us whatever nature show ending we aspire to will never see fruition. Regardless, we have a pure subject to inspire or even merely amuse us through our daily trials. In a subtly conscious way, we allow ourselves to reaffirm our own philosophies and perceptions through the filter of imagination (more on that in part 3), namely the theatrical arrangement of a conversation wherein the revelation of shared motivations is laid out plain.

So why do we continually ruin it all? Any attempt to realize the ideal version of our perfect stars, any attempt to close in for study or even view in more detail leads to deflating discoveries. First and most obviously, one never lives up to one's own ideals-and without excuse there, since we all know our own ideals-so one's ideals of another person are also impossible to fulfill. Plenty of superficial investigation has explicated this aspect of union, that we never can please ourselves or each other.

What makes it doubly frustrating is that the aims change constantly, so to fulfill someone's initial ideal conception, while a legitimately though challenging attainable goal, never satisfies that someone since they eventually develop a new ideal or set of ideals.

Not only does this occur as the result of daily changing truths in individual existence, but is exacerbated when compounded by the constant influence we exert over each other by specific request, desire, imitation, example, education or mere existence. While we accuse those closest to us of changing, it is our closeness that causes their change. It's unavoidable.

So if it is a truth that the reality of a person cannot live up to the fantasized version of that same person, why do we so malign the fantasy? Why do we so often encourage the pursuit of the real with complete knowledge that we sacrifice the only purity and mythic beauty we'll ever be able to experience from another human? Why do we put ourselves through hell attempting to tolerate and satiate a completely dissatisfied and dissatisfying real-life let down of what was so much better in our heads instead of moving on to the next fantasy? Is the answer simply for the sake of reproduction?