Dear diary,

Valentine's Day just passed, and despite not having any girlfriend to spend it with, it was still a really enjoyable day.

I'm sure a long long time ago, Valentine's meant something more than just roses and chocolates and a chance to fleece hapless couples. It should have meant a day set aside to reavow your love, to let people have a time-out in their hurried lives to take a good look at the people that matter to them, a day when love is truly in the air.

The commercial success of Valentine's inevitably marred this resplendent day, another victim doomed to the big, bad ugly textbooks of economics. This ugly transgression however, didn't quite kill Valentine's spirit in me, not this time. If you look carefully enough, see past the long distasteful queues forming outside shrewd restaurants and florists, see past the mass-produced Hallmarks clutched in the hands of equally mass-produced human zombies, you'll notice the cute couples whispering sweet-nothings in quiet corners, silent couples walking comfortably down the sunset-bled streets, friends at a quaint café laughing amidst joyful banter.

The spirit and the exuberance of Valentine's Day didn't quite choke on itself and die in the face of putrid commercialism, it was merely masked by its vileness. To all the friends who made this day a Valentine's Valentine, an ode:

Lonely hearts we are not,
single smarts we purport.

We lived the day,
despite the fray.

Ate some dim-sums,
to fill our tum-tums.

Finished two cheesecakes,
probably better than I can bake.

Listened to good music,
but Fel needed some prozac.

Esmond came so late,
didn't start on his theorem, great.

Ended a Valentine full of joy,
forgotten a load of homework oh boy.

God that was bad,
but please do not upset.

Ok I'd better stop,
before I get er, bopped.