Friday 23 May 2014

CRAZYinLOVE/ WANTING Niall Horan/ CHEMICAL.

                                                IT'S ALL JUST CHEMCALS,  STOOPID.                                                                                                                                                                                                               "So, yeah, right , you know how you are only in  love with someone for like eighteen months? Like Infatuated? Because it's like Chemical?"  "Huh?"   "Yeah! so don't you think ...shouldn't you like... wait?. Until after that? Before you like  make  up your mind? About,  right, love, or like about the other person?"   "Hmm . Right.... Depends."  "On WHAT?" The boss is doing that stern heavy browed thing with her face, affording me a glimpse of the formidable woman she will be, when her skittering coltish  girlhood is done.

 "Um, well, chemical, yeah, probably, chemical high even, but darling girl it's actually like, it's a..it's a gateway." "Huh! you mean  like a gateway drug!?" !"No, no no, like a..like a..a..a mighty wind that carries you so far out to sea with that person that you are basically attached, familiar, with child even!, or four!, by the time you come down. You'r on the high way of enduring love , baby, or, well OK maybe just endurance, but you know, bonded, fused, as one. See?"

                                                           I SEE YOUR TRUE COLOURS                                                                                                                                                                                                                       "Yes. But! I mean what if... turns out the other person is like a loser, addict, alcoholic, psycho, once they  like let their  guard down , like show you their true colours . And YOU haven't  like waited?"  "Oh, um, yes but I think you might get a hint of loser, alcoholic psycho tendencies from the off, honey".  " Or ...or even just like mean! boring1, bone lazy! pure mule!" . "Hmm, well yeah,  well, nobody's  perfect"  "BUT, SHOULDN'T YOU STILL LIKE WAIT! so you can like try  some one else out, some one better, before you decide."  "Hmm, someone else, yeah, but see now when you are high on love you tend to throw up the same sort of person every time. Like a sort of inner prototype gets your engines spinning, your heart a blaze, every time. Umm.  Yes. Is that making sense?"

"No! I mean, then shouldn't you like, wait, see a councillor, see other boys, and like adjust your settings.. Before you like commit???"  "Um, yes, maybe, probably. Um yes, wait,  hold on, oh yes  indeed.".

                                                                  WILD WILD HORSES

So I don't say how that's like holding back Wild Horses, turning aside  the Wirlwind, pulling down the  Sun from  the sky, and snuffing out the Moon. I don't tell  her the one  is always the one no matter how the that person is all so right, or all so  wrong. Don't tell her love is a mystery, infatuation a blast, and better women than me and she have failed to refuse it.

And I don't  mention Niall Horan. Don't remind her  that she, stern girl,  twelve years old,  exerted  her very considerable powers  of personality and manipulation to persuade me to drive  us to Mulllingar, where we could sit outside Niall Horan's  house in Vigil least he  pop in to like see his mother, or, at at the least get a glimpse of someone connected to him by blood.  "No!" I said then, "No. We will not be doing that" "Oh but oh but oh but pullease" she said, "puleeease, I just want him,  just want him, just want him".

                    SHE WOULD HAVE RUN YOU DOWN ON THE ROAD TO MULLINGAR

All summer long she worked on me, waking and  sleeping she dreamed, her  pink  bedroom walls  postered,  a riot of simpering boyband, One Direction!, Nall Horan,!  unable to believe he would not succumb to the force of her passion. She would have run over you on the road to Mullingar, if she could. I kept the car keys close,  the front door thoroughly locked  in the dreaming time,  against  her dark alchemical brewings. She wanted. 

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