Your love did not desert me

Ok, I admit this is one of those "drunk" posts I produce every once a while. There, you're warned.

Here's a translation of a poem (and also a song) from my native language:

Your love did not desert me
Hungry as I were
Thirsty as I were
The night was treacherous and dark
Your love did not desert me

The heart is still poor
The heart is still silent
The heart is shattered to pieces
Your love did not desert me

Handcuffed as I am
I've been without a smoke, without a sleep
Your love did not desert me

Is love just so overrated?

Here's my (controversial) (mindless) rant:

There are two (2) kinds of people — those who could fell in love with anybody, and those who could never fall in love.

"Sparkle" is a fine word. There are people (like me), who fell in love with a single sparkle (or two) they see in somebody. The person might as well be Britney Spears or Bill Gates, no matter what their conscious (subconscious) tells them, that single (or couple) sparkles do the job already. Love is blind. This type of person is not aware that he/she could actually fall in love with -anyone-, and this unawareness (as long as it sustains) fucks him/her up real good.

There's also another kind of person (the second). He/she too might fall in love easily, but under different presumptions. While type A picks up the "good sparkles" in any person (and falls in love with them), this type B picks up the "bad sparkles" in any person, particularly those who they are in love with, and begin carving out a (subconscious) (conscious) exit strategy.

Once more, I am pretty drunk at the moment. I'm getting divorced in 10 hours. My opinions are probably ego-centric and self-applauding, (which is the exact opposite of what I've always tried to be), but that's human nature. Don't say you've not been warned.

So my theory, (not that you could build a LISP macro on it), is that there are 2 (two) kinds of people. Those who are inclined to fall in love (with any sparkle they happen to see), and those who are inclined to drop it all (with any sparkle they happen to see).

Honestly, I had some other issues to write about this subject, but I can't quite remember right now. So I'll be a jerk and end the post with another song: (songs are divine)

Can't get the stink off
It's been hanging round for days
Comes like a comet
Suckered you but not your friends
One day she'll get to you
And teach you how to be a holy cow

You do it to yourself, you do
and that's what really hurts
You do it to yourself, just you
you and no-one else
You do it to yourself
You do it to yourself

Don't get my sympathy
Hanging out the 15th floor
You've changed the locks three times
She still comes reeling through the door
One day I'll get to you
And teach you how to get to purest hell

You do it to yourself, you do
and that's what really hurts
You do it to yourself, just you
you and no-one else
You do it to yourself
You do it to yourself

You do it to yourself, you do
and that's what really hurts is
You do it to yourself, just you
you and no-one else
You do it to yourself
You do it to yourself, yourself, yourself.

Yeah, that's good old Radiohead.

Kudos to yourself — if you can guess I'm type A or type B.

Peace of mind — if you can guess if you're type A or type B.