Love Devotion And Insanity

	*Feel free to append others in the same genre...

Many, or perhaps most adolescents spend an inordinate amount of time wondering who likes whom. In days of yore, the liker would make a subtle declaration of his affection to start with, then devote his energies to encouraging a reciprocation of said affection in the likee. Now, however, several varieties of social games surround the matter, the purpose of which appears to be getting the likee to admit liking the liker, without the liker having to admit liking the likee. Obviously, the first person to admit any variety of affection for anyone loses the game. Oh, how marvelous it is to be socialized! Following are a few impromptu late night haikus vaguely addressing these (and related) matters:

 how very strange!
 you like her, she likes you too
 a modern miracle.

 bright red eyeshadow
 at least prevents boys from
 not knowing you exist

 love and fear mix well.
 confronted with perfection, 
 I want to run away.

 romance, insecure;
 talking, laughing, never knowing
 where I stand.

 my love is like a
 way to get rich quick, e.g.
 nonexistent

 Chris likes Ann, Ann, John, 
 John, Liz, Liz, Brent, Brent, Maybelle.
 Maybelle likes Chris.

 does he like me?
 I'll get kidnapped by a dragon
 see if he rescues me

 Oh, no, please don't fight
 Stop it, both of you, you'll hurt yourselves!
 Good, good, sit down and talk it out --
 I said -talk-! Yes, that's better.
 I'll go outside and give you two some privacy.
 Hello, m'dear! How -- oh, I see. I see.
 .*sighs* Well, go on in, they're already discuss --
 Hey, give me that!!!! No baseball bats allowed.
 Sheesh. People. You'd think that they would have the sense not to. . . .
 Oh. Hi. I guess you're mad too, huh?
 Well, it's hard -not- to tell when someone's eyes are like ice
 And their hand are clenched in fists like that.
 Go on in -- they're probably expecting you.
 In fact, I need to go fetch my backpack; I'll take you inside.
 Hi, guys! I won't be long, I just to need to get -- oh, dear.
 But I thought. . . . put that down, please!!
 Oh, _come on_. There are kids in here, and he is not. . .    
 Hey!! *yelps indignantly* I'm trying to help! 
 Could you at least take this outside?
 No? Well, fine then. Go ahead and bash each others brains out.
 I don't care.
 Hmmph. Love? Insanity? They're the same thing.

Amy

 i'm smack dab in the middle of...
 my sheets
 sitting here i'm wondering
 i'm slowly dozing off
 i'm slowly losing my grip 
 on reality
 on the phone
 on your hand
 so tell me what you think of me
 i am dying to know
 and i am dying to go
 to be with you for this time
 for the time to come
 no money for tickets
 i'll have to run
 so you can say anything
 but you already knew that
 and you can be anyone
 as long as it's you
 my soul won't change
 my heart will just grow
 my eyes will be brighter
 i'll never go
 so tell me that you need me
 tell me that you love me
 chances are that i can make you smile
 i'll do my best
 come to be with me
 because i've been day-dreaming again
 and you know this one best come true
 but i don't want to cry
 because it's friday night!
 and i don't want to die
 i'd miss saturday night!
 so instead i'll just lie
 between my sheets
 thinking things
 perhaps i shouldn't be thinking
 and that's okay
 because i'm me
 and you know who you are
 and you know who i am
 and i know who you are
 and... you're smiling, aren't you?
                                          ~naomi!

 So. . . . let me get this straight, okay?
 I think I'm a little confused,
 to say the least.
 You still love him, but he only likes you
 And you're mad because he's
 An insensitive pig?
 She waits for him, writing letters blotched with tears
 But he's not coming back,
 So he's horrible too?
 They kissed and they touched, said love you so much
 But now both hurt inside,
 'Cause "we're only just friends"!

 Ay-yi-yi. . . .

 Young love, it's been said, is a wonderful thing
 And I wonder what idiot
 Made that up.

Note: This was a spur-of-the-moment poem thingy, written because I find the romantic antics of my beloved friends to be <i>extremely</i> bewildering. ~amy~

 *written after nbtsc '99... ~becca~

This is a forbidden act, this solitude. Why do I not feel guilty for being only with you, when I have such variety, such opportunity for conversation and communion, for such a short period of time? But you aren't letting me answer my questions, you are impatient for me to stop feeling not guilty and to start simply to be. Sometimes you are the Taoist ahead of me. Ohh…. I had forgotten how my body rises involuntarily (though not unhappily) to your attention. And the breath-forsaking sweet agony of your mouth hovering.... All thought runs from my brain as water through outstretched fingers, when you turn the intensity of your determination, love, erotic imagination, to the task of pleasing me. Now let me please you. No one else exists. I don't have the will power to feel guilty about this.

I'd like to post an essay/story I wrote a while ago, but it's a bit long, so I'll just MakeALink to it and put it on a seperate page, so y'all can read it if you like, or not. Gee, WikiWiki's fun. :) marina