Let me ask the question that I've wondered for what seems like centuries.
Let me know.
What exactly is the ******* point?
What drives you to turn emotional "love"
Into physical "love"?
I have been constantly dissatisfied.
Endlessly unamused.
Forever jaded.
To the point that I can't imagine the notion of this ******* being even minutely beautiful.
Or even worthy of being the median of which love is concocted.
**** it.
I don't want to understand.