It strikes me that holidays are frequent and pointless.
Maybe that is age, not wisdom. Yet, valentines day is made up to sell someone else’s words, pictures, packaged emotion. It is meant to be unwrapped not unpacked or understood. We are supposed to assume the meaning, like most transfers, it has to be already known to be clearly understood.
Valentines say hello in childish importance.
Valentines say hello in mature memory.
The heavy commerce around this is filled with fake passion, consumption, emotion. Picked and packed by others. Comicly presented as an afterthought of some guilty, forgetful, oh so typical male.
So why is it the only holiday of my year? because it is crafted so badly it could be ignored. This is a day like every other day among commerce, but it pretends to be about love, not resurection. Just simple love between, but not among.
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