Love in the Pink Room, pt.2

So many deaths for love, so few for honesty. So much insanity in the name of love; insanity in the name of honesty, of course, is a screaming flail at fireflies in the hopes of hitting the one that would splatter gooey glowing love. Love breeds lies. Nothing breeds honesty. Honesty is aberration, a distracting instrument of power, a misfit toy on the island of tools. Honesty and love don’t speak to each other. They eat at different tables. They fling snowballs at each other’s cars. And honesty’s snowballs have rocks in them; of course, love’s snowballs contain hunks of hard ice. So many wars for love, none for honesty.

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