Ze guts

I didn’t write in a while. I got busy. I got lazy. I didn’t feel much lately… so kind of a dried well in here. Kind of a dry season for feelings. Heart in the chest waiting for thrill.

I was thinking… I think I’m pretty weird. I mean I feel that people feel the same. And I’m pretty socially awkward.

Sometimes I say the stupidest things man. I don’t even know where they come from. Many a times I just force myself to say nothing. I don’t remember being like this. I was… different. We all were, I guess. One way or another. And I remember I had more balls when I was younger. Is it true you get softer with age? But I was able to say things as they were and I was easily falling for that “I bet you can’t do it” that life throws your way. I just increased the font to 16 because I can’t see properly anymore. I have back aches and I care about what people say.

Where are my balls man?

Is it because everybody is so damn easily offended by EVERYTHING these days? It’s like you’re on a ticking bomb. You lose people after a conversation man, because maybe you said something that didn’t tickle their ears in the right way.

I used to say everything that’s on my mind, of course in the limit of common sense, I don’t need to be rude to speak my mind, and it was so liberating.

I presented myself as I am, always. And then people happened, man. New countries with new cultures, of course, demand some caution, but that is fine, that is again common sense. It’s another thing to be offended by as much as a breath. We are too sensitive these days. We are big babies waiting to complain about almost every damn thing. There is no feeling of contentment anymore.

And then there’s the contrast. You’re used to be open, then you have to close yourself bit by bit and then the only instinct left, is to close some more.

I don’t even know how to start a conversation anymore. Or at least this is how I feel. I used to be so friendly and talkative and now I just want to go meet Friday on a deserted Island. My type of companion.
It’s hard when you have a temper too. I know is good to tame it and I did, but it’s still part of my personality. Sometimes you can just read it on my face. Apologize for that.

But still, it doesn’t feel like myself anymore. I’m becoming a damn turtle and I have less and less desire to push my head through the shell.

Is it the age? Is that what it is? Can’t be just that. It’s this disease that affects “millenials”

I mean look at your damn ancestors, fighting bare handed on bloody fields of war. Aren’t you ashamed that you get offended by not getting likes on Facebook. I mean see the difference man. This is what we’ve become. We don’t know how to take criticism anymore and it’s so necessary sometimes.

I guess we are just bored and we need to come up with various reasons to spice up our lives. But this is not the way. Being a cry baby on social media, spending the majority of your day there, and then feeling that your life is not as shiny as others picture it to be, is pure bullshit man. They say “oh social media ruined us”. Fuck no! We ruin ourselves. If we don’t let it, it will not affect us. But we love to be brainwashed, to be sheeps in the herd. We pay thousands of dollars for a company that brings little to none updates to their products. Anyway we just love to be controlled. George Orwell pictured it just fine. Look at us blaming social media for our miserable lives. But who is behind these social media channels. People. Only smarter.

Nowadays everybody wants to be a damn blogger. I would gladly be one too. These are our aspirations these days. Fuck the traditions, basically. It’s a vicious circle. And we do love to spin.

Everybody wants to be a star, to live a glamorous life and look at our examples, man. Sex tape protagonists turned role-models. Gold-diggers and fake idols.

All what women do is be more naked. Boobs out, ass out, they don’t even balance it anymore. All out!

You ain’t even bad bitches to be honest. Only a few can carry all this “new” fashion. Only few women can add personality and style to less clothes. Rest of you just basic hoes.

That’s the thing. You have to add your own. Copy-cats don’t have a long life.

You can be classy with a deep cleavage if you know how to do it. You can be sexy without being vulgar but that’s such a thin line.

Man, I’m not archaic I just look around me and I don’t like it. I’m not saying we have to go back to being our ancestors, but to be less shallow. We are shallow as fuck.

We want everything served on a damn silver plate or whatever the saying. You should know by now I’m not good at sayings.

And you know what bothers me the most? When men are whining. There’s nothing more annoying. They developed so many issues in time. Maybe because they were force to always lead and be responsible, but damn it, it’s too much. Go get a manicure dear and a Brazilian while you’re at it and let me fix the door knob. Damn it! Grow up, will ya!

Infinite ego as well. Nowadays there’s no chase, You have to chase their gluteus maximus around like they’re the shit. Where’s courting and proper dating or at least the feeling that you’ve tried. Nowadays they just jump to the next one like you never even existed. Boom! Now you see him, now you don’t ! Did I get this right?

I’m on a rant as usual. That’s what I do on my tiny cyber-universe. I grow virtual balls. Because I can’t freaking open my mouth anymore without feeling a look or two, accusing me of some thing or another.

Anyway man, this is who we are at the moment. Am I wrong? You won’t be able to tell me because you think I’ll get offended.

It’s all love and draft browsing shenanigans (that I wrote maybe two weeks back). Peace!

Fatalistic or not…

There’s this thing… a lot lately. They started asking again. “When will you get married… time is passing… you’re already 31..”…. Family as usual. I wouldn’t say I didn’t expect it, I would just say that I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I feel the pressure of it more now.

But I don’t think it’s that easy. As they pictured it to be. In my opinion is not. They say “Find someone and settle down and give me some grandchildren or some nieces/nephews.” But is it really that easy?

Because I don’t see myself ready. I don’t see myself able to take care of anybody else right now. And God knows I love children to pieces and being around them really makes me happy but the problem is with me. I’m afraid of failure, I’m afraid of being bad as a mother, as an example to my children. I’m afraid of  what we are all afraid of. But I’m afraid with practice. If that makes any sense, It’s just that I’ve been digging into myself for way too long to ignore what kind of issues I have.

And you know what just crossed my mind. That it will be actually the best thing to do. To have children. And you know what the first thing that reasoned this idea was? That if you have children, you’ll never be alone. And if you’re not loved, they will always love you. You will have somebody to hug everyday. You will have somebody who will hold your hand and call you mommy for a few sweet years. And you will have someone to be proud of years after.

And then it hit me. Isn’t this the biggest sign of selfishness? Yes they will give me all that, but what will I give in exchange because God knows I’ m not one of His best ones. What if I’m not able to give my children what they need and they’ll turn out just like me. What if they’ll be broken and damaged and they’ll not know what to do with their life? How am I going to solve that. Because that’s a risk I can’t take. I can’t be responsible of damaging innocent people. God knows I’ve done anything bad in my life but not yet this. And I don’t want to.

And you’ll tell that nobody was born ready or knowing how to parent and yeah I’ll buy that. But this is a full time, bullshit! It’s a lifetime commitment and I want at least to feel like I’m ready for it. I don’t need much, I just want to feel, inside me, that I’m ready to handle a life that has been given in my care. I want to feel that I can guard that life for the life of me.

It’s weird how a childhood dream will become your worst nightmare. I wish you could see me when I was 18. I would tell you loud and clear that by the time I was 26 I would be married and have kids and that will be the first thing I’d talk about. And you know what else I would state loud and clear? I would say without any doubt that you have to have children while you’re young because you’ll be more willing to play with them, to level with them, to understand them. Back in the days being 30 meant being already old. And I’ll be damned if I feel that now.

I always felt that young parents, like my mom, can understand better their children, especially when they are teenagers. But then, my family is not an example for almost anything.

And this was long time back. And now, to be honest, I don’t want to get married just because I have to and time it’s passing and I don’t want to have children just to care for me when I’m old.

I still hope..

Yeah… I do. And somehow I feel it’s not too late and yet I get this feeling that the timer was set and the clock started ticking. And it’s not safe anymore. I pray I won’t rush, I pray I won’t make any mistakes because if there’s one thing I never accepted in my whole existence… divorce. I think I can accept murder before divorce. Because I believe in people being above themselves and sort shit out. Then again, I would always advise somebody to get a divorce if things get messy but I will never accept it for me. Because then I would be a failure to my family like my mom was and I was always taught that I should never repeat the same mistakes.

And you know the irony of it? The best thing my mom ever did was to get a divorce from that monster. And if there’s one thing that I blame my mom for, is that she never told anybody the horrors that she’s been through. I wish I would’ve known earlier.

But I don’t want it for myself, because I always thought that people who love each other can sort their issues. And I always say don’t put kids through your grown ups ugly matters and also don’t stay together for your children and in the same time let them see two people acting like strangers or even worse two people who just fight and hurt each other. This is not what children should witness.

In the same time don’t force your children to take sides or judge. It’s not on them to take any side or any decisions.

And now, as I discovered the enormous selfish treasure, I can’t stop thinking of two warm hands on my face and a cheeky face next to mine saying “mommy”. Maybe that’s the answer of getting your unconditional love but it’s never fair to deprive children of what they need. And that is, first of all, a family. So if I can’t assure that to them then I hope I’ll end up alone and without any blood on my hands. And if I do get blessed with the greatest love of all I hope I earn it.

We underestimate the gift of children and the love they bring. Well, I hope we don’t. I hope we keep it sacred in our lives and never let it go to waste.

It’s all peace and night writing shenanigans. Peace!

 

The urge of finding out

God sometimes I’m so awkward. I just say the most weird things when it’s really not the case. God! And the problem is I really don’t mean them. I don’t meant to make them sound as they do. They just come out of my mouth. Is anybody else having the same problem?

Really, it’s frustrating. I’m not a person who loves double meaning and stuff. I like things straight. And they always come out twisted. Christ! I’m the master of disaster!

I really don’t mean it, and here I am being all awkward. With the wrong people. I want to give myself an award for being such a weirdo. I’m just a real calamity.

I should shut up. I don’t even know why I start some conversations. I should just be quiet. But it’s just that part of me that wants to see where I stand. I guess I get my answers sometimes. It’s not always what I want or when I want. I should get used to this. I can’t always get what I want.

Most of the times I do. That’s where the confusion is. I always get what I want and it becomes a habit. No Gaby, things are not always the way you picture them. And sometimes you’re just bored. This is what kills me. Boredom. But it’s natural. It happens to everyone. Is not always thrilling and adventurous as we picture it to be. Sometimes we just have to be happy with what we have.

But I always want what I can’t have. Speak about the drama. I am such a spoiled brat. I am used to have all these exciting things happening and I forget that sometimes are not even right. Or moral… Call it as you want. I just love the unusual. I just love the fear and the adventure. It has to give me that adrenaline dose that I love so much. It has to be forbidden. That’s why I’m not settled, because I love the unknown too much. Or the most familiar. It will take a good shrink to decipher all this.

And it’s fun you know. But it’s such a contradiction because I never know where I stand. Do I want to know where I stand. I’m bored. I want some fun. It’s been a while since I felt the thrill of it. I’m such a stubborn person. So easily offended when I don’t get what I want. What do I want though?

I’m not easy to please because I don’t want to. I have layers and layers that I shed at all times. And I love it like this. You’ll never know what pleases me now and what pleases me after a moment. But there’s one thing I know. I want it only my way. And my way is not boring at all. You should just let me have it. Give me that space that makes me comfortable. And then magic will happen. If you shut me down I’ll never react. I just need to feel secure. And then there’s magic.

And to be clear my intentions are never bad. You can rest assured that I don’t want, I never wanted and I will never want to cause harm. I’m just perverted and my aims are not to destroy. I aim to please. It’s all carnal. It’s all about the sense. All the senses. But I know there have to be limits because what I can unleash is not easy to handle.

And people are always afraid. Especially when they act like they don’t.

And in the same time I love stability. Now you tell me how everything I just said before can match this statement. Where’s the middle way here?

I have no clue. It’s like I want to have that Bonnie and Clyde kind of thing but… legal. Too much Freud inside my head. How can I ever find peace? Because in 31 years I never found it. I’m a vampire searching for the elixir that gives the power of walking in daylight. I’m searching for a myth.

But I guess I’ll make do with the first part until I find the latter. I’m just fine with trying. I just wish I wasn’t misunderstood. Damn I wish I could be clearer and things will just fall into place. But then that’s the beauty of it… not getting what you want… when you want.

This being told, I guess I’m just going to be my awkward self until that day comes and somebody will see it as a treasure. Because I am one.

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

Waiting for my memoir

EXPERIMENT! I just recorded this post and you can listen it here (so sorry for my voice):

 

If it’s not your thing, read it below.

Ok, I’m there. I’m bored to death. I’m going out of my mind, inside of my mind. I’m suffocating inside myself. I don’t know what could possibly keep me satisfied. I don’t know what will please me more. When I have something, I want something else, when I have what I think I want, I don’t want it anymore. And what I want the most, I always lose. Maybe I shouldn’t want it in the first place. But why? Anyway, to sum it up I’m a happy person but I’m terribly bored and this boredom makes me unhappy, but not unhappy in the sad way. Does it make any sense?!

Happiness is not, in my opinion, the lack of sadness. It’s that state of mind that everything is fine, it’s going to be fine and there are great things coming your way and you manage to keep your head up. Happiness doesn’t really take much. It can be anything. Sadness requires a specific reason. At least this is how I see it. Happiness lays in the simplest and most insignificant things sometimes. This doesn’t mean we don’t have other needs that require more complexity. And some needs should require a different level of satisfaction. And then, there’s your problem. It’s all about your unique requirements, about what can match the level of your expectation and imagination. If that makes any sense… again.

Back to being bored. I am afraid when I feel like this because changes are coming. And who the hell isn’t afraid of change. And I know it’s the cure for boredom but I’m not always ready for change. Even though whenever happened, I raised up to it in no time. I’m always ready. Then I behave as it was always my natural habitat. The power of adapting to anything it’s unbelievable sometimes. But I don’t like changes and even when I feel bored I stop myself from seeking entertainment. I tamed myself a lot in time.

What I’m saying is that I like stability. I love safety and everything straightforward. But I have moments when chaos is my only nature. I just unleash all that has been tamed and I just let the beast out.

See, I wasn’t made for routine. I wasn’t made to be leashed and caged. I should be dancing, I should be flying, I should be an entertainer, I should be a totally different thing from what I’ve always been.

I’ve always survived from a day to another. I always left my dreams aside to reach that safety level I was talking about earlier. I said to myself that the things I love the most are not serious enough for the future. Because my wings have always been closed. I’ve never opened them as much as I should, so I never flew. I was just half there. When I was young my thoughts were too old. My worries were those of an adult. I always struggled with my thoughts. Way too early.

I wish somebody had taken these thoughts away from me at that time. Just somebody to say “you’re just a kid, these thoughts don’t belong to you, these problems are not yours to solve and most of all, you’re not too blame”. I don’t want return to childhood traumas but, man, how they ruin you when you grow up.

Not the real situation, but the impact it had on your mind and what kind of reactions it triggered in your mind. Because you grow up wrecked, fearful, with no self-esteem. And then you spend a long time re-building or building from scratch a new persona, without all the damages, but what we don’t know, is that they are our foundation.

It can work though. You can keep it going. I know some people will say “who? you? no way” but I can tell you “yeah, me”. I seem a cocky motherf#cker but it’s a long way to explain what I am. I am happy I managed to leave that impression though. Not that I’ve been a mole before but inside my head I was always way lower than others. I’m happy with any progress though.

And I fought, I kept on going. Even when I said I can’t, I just kept on going. And I said so many times I can’t. I said so many times I don’t want to. I guess I never really meant it. I guess I’m waiting to see myself succeeding like my own fan. I just want to be happy for myself one day.

Don’t get me wrong, I had my moments, my precious moments and I know very well who I am and what I did. It will be stupid of me to say I don’t. I shined and I conquered a lot of situations. I had my glory. And I had tons of luck. Tons.

I just realised that my priorities have changed and I think of myself more than ever. It’s like I want to preserve the last sparkle of that childish enthusiasm. I want to preserve that drive that makes me dream and hope that not everything is ruined and it’s never too late to try to have what I always wanted.

God help me, I say. Because who knows what I’ll start. And by the way, is there anybody willing to write my memoir? Seriously, you’ll be entertained. Everybody will. I just hope I’ll be able to tell my story without thinking how others will judge me. I wish I’ll be able to talk about the darkest moments without shame. After all it has to be authentic.

As usual it’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!

The journey of fear

I found my old Romanian blog. From years ago… 10 or more who knows, I lost the notion of time or I never had it. But, man, I had balls. I could rant about everything like a motherf#cker and not give a damn. I was poring my heart out til the last drop. It was liberating. And I was never thinking about who reads my blog, or if I did, apparently didn’t give a rat’s ass. Now I care and that’s so bad for my writing.

I guess it’s happening. We become scardy cats (to avoid using the p word) when we grow up.

Did you see kids? They have no fear. Oh water! I’ll go. Oh Fire! I’ll go. Oh snake! I’ll touch. Oh electricity! Bring it on. They just go for anything because fear is a notion that’s not yet known or implanted into their system. They don’t know it so they just go on, head first into everything.

Then, teenagers. They know fear but they are rebels. And being a rebel counts more than being afraid. So they do things out of rebellion and then, if nothing wrong happens they feel invincible. And it teaches them that if they dare they might as well succeed. There is actually no other option in young minds except success because they don’t know yet how to rationalize or be defensive. And it’s not such a bad thing. Lots of them turn fearless leaders.

And then, after these stages, you just become more and more afraid of.. basically.. everything. You think everything is a calamity and there you are stepping on your dreams, your impulses and sometimes your heart and just keep yourself on the safest side.

This is what we’re taught, right? Don’t quit that job that gives you a good income. Don’t break up with that person you’ve been since highschool. Don’t take any kind of risks.

But… what if I’m unhappy with all the above. What if I want something else, something new. And then your brain goes like “Nonsense! Shut your heart and let me be in control. Don’t let emotions control you!”. And you do it, you get stuck there forever, knowing damn right that you can be somewhere else with somebody else in the middle of adventure and yet you just go for the same routine. We tame ourselves to the extreme. Who knows what life will bring if we just make that one move, that one step…

And sometimes we build fear by comparing ourselves to others. This is the fear of not fitting in. We look at others and we decide that we want to be like them in certain situations because we believe they hold some unknown recipe to success, forgetting that we might have our own way of doing things right just by being ourselves. I could never be too ladylike for example, and many times I heard that I act like a man. But hey, I don’t mind it. And if I don’t, who the hell cares. I’m too loud, or I jump too much, or I make faces, or I climb trees. So what? I curse and I say nasty jokes in front of everyone. Sometimes I probably look moe like a man than a woman but it never bothered me that much to change it.

And then people will tell you “Oh but men like women who are.. you know… frail and delicate, and they behave like ladies”. Meh! None of my boyfriends ever complained. So there you go! It depends on what you want to see. And men anyway they have a tendency to say something and do the opposite, so let’s move on.

This is one above of the examples, and it’s a true story. I heard so many people complaining that I’m too rough or too careless about the above mentioned feminine traits. Ah, well, too late now! By the way I’m also very sensitive in the same time. I can cry immediately and effortlessly. I’m many things, not just one. A lot of people lose the bigger picture and focus on some details only. An it’s fine again, because these people are the ones that follow their role-models, or whatever society rules, burying their own selves under masks and layers of deceit.

It just bothers me that we lose that sincerity of feelings and emotions that guides all our actions when we are young. The more we grow the more complex is every decision we make. We have a reason, or more, behind everything, and sometimes it’s not a pleasant one. We are fake. We start with us, we practice on others. We’re not genuine anymore. Genuine. This is what I was looking for.

I hate situations that force me to be somebody else. I know in life we have to make some compromises but I want to think of them as “some”. I don’t want to become somebody else. And I think that my own personality will do just fine in a very wide range of situations. I don’t know if it’s strong, but it didn’t actually left me until now so…

Moving on. I’m not saying to keep being rude if you are a rude person by nature. This will be the misunderstanding, I feel. I just think that if you are smart enough you know how to correct your flaws without erasing your entire hard drive. If you get what I mean. I don’t believe in “It’s me, take it or leave it” but I also don’t believe in “I need to act more like that” (when “that” means copy paste) and I also don’t believe in “People say/think/want you to be…”.

And all of a sudden we are a world of easily offended people and our egos hurt the most, and we have to be politically correct because who knows what sensitive string we might touch. This is also a form of fear, of constraint, of limiting the free speech, own opinions and originality. We are in boxes. We have walls. We see the ceiling and we can’t fly. Because “who knows what might be out there, better stay here where we are safe”.

Why don’t we just have a look ourselves?…

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

That damn wisdom well!

It’s been a while! Lots of things happened. An eventful year, but when is it not with me? Lots of ups and downs. I felt more downs than ups, but then it depends on what you want to see.

One thing that sucks in WordPress- really guys very bad move- is that they removed the Facebook connection. Is not automatically posted on Facebook, you just have to share your post manually. Not a biggie, but makes a difference!

Anyway, ups and downs. Just like everybody else. I just had to forgive a lot of people, and I had to forgive myself a lot for being, as usual, naive.

I tell myself so many times that not everybody feels, thinks or understands things the way I do. And it’s ok. Less expectations, everybody will say. But is it true? No, guys, is not!

Deep inside we still want people to understand our actions, our minds, our intentions. Is not always the case. Unfortunately.

And that breaks us.

But we have a choice. To forgive, to let the grudges on the side and just move on. There’s no place for hate and resentment. Regret… no way! Just find that power inside you and let it go. You have to! For your own happiness, for your own wellbeing.

After all there’s nobody out there who gets you more than you do. You and your own self. Find the time to de-clutter your feelings. Vacuum that negativity away. What is it good for, anyway?

Be happy for no reason. Enjoy what’s given. Cliche, I know but it actually works. Busy your mind with things that make you happy. It takes some effort but it has long term benefits.

Not everybody understands your ways. Not even your questions. People misinterpret everything. Human nature. We just love to complicate things. I’m talking about myself too. I’m no exception!

Most of the times we are well-intentioned but it doesn’t always look like that. We’re difficult sometimes, we’re cranky, we’re weird even. Yes, we’ll be misunderstood, but, then again, that’s life. Just don’t let it ruin your sleep.

My sleep is already screwed. I really don’t need more reasons to fak it!

If you have reasons to be happy, just be! Don’t think too much! There are too many people out there who wake up to their worst nightmare. Be grateful for what you have. It’s true. You can’t have everything, but what is everything?

Forgiveness is the key. Don’t give anybody the satisfaction to see you stress about them. Hate is as strong as love sometimes. And both are extreme emotions. They affect you and the people around you. Both make people feel important, so be careful what you send out.

I went from one extreme to another in a very short time. I had a breakdown and I gave people the satisfaction of seeing me broken. I shouldn’t have, but to be honest it was such a liberating moment. But, that’s all it was, a moment. Probably it saved me from the mental institution, but it was not entirely worth it.

Anyway, after the release, the reality kicked in. And I had to rethink my strategy. And the only way I see it is forgiving myself  and others. Just forgive and forget. It’s nice to leave guilt aside. And, by the way, I’m not giving half of my feelings or myself to people. So I’m not blaming myself for not giving. Maybe I give too much. That seems to be the problem.

Maybe when you give too much people feel burdened. Maybe it’s a lesson. But what I truly believe is that someday, somebody will just see you as you are and how simple your intentions are and you’ll not have to play games or stop yourself from being UNAPOLOGETICALLY YOU!

Just don’t give up. There are great people out there and life has so much too give. Just have a look around. Dance for God’s sake! Sing! Do you! Leave second thoughts for afterlife. You’ll have an eternity to go through all of it. In case you don’t reincarnate in a worm or something.

Peace! It’s all love and late night shenanigans!

Writing out loud

I think there are less and less original ideas and it’s very hard to be under the spotlight without anything groundbreaking. You can’t be mediocre. If you want to start something you must have a vision and that brief moment of genius.

The more time you allow to pass without doing it the harder it becomes. Just like everything else in life. You grow older and more complex. Your basic needs turn into intricate ones, you are not satisfied with little things, you are not satisfied with even a tridimensional view of things.

Your own self-perception changes and you aspire to be this great being doing even greater deeds and when you fail it resonates deep inside you. It’s hard to stand out in a world that fabricate ideas on a conveyor belt.

And then there’s this battle inside us that makes so frail. This antithesis of feelings and actions that makes us so eternally unsatisfied and changing. We criticize ourselves so badly that we just wish to give up right after we started. We put these insecurities and weaknesses first and then we just get discouraged.

Or maybe it’s just me. I’m so easily discouraged and I can’t really understand how I could go trough some really hard situations in my life and I jus can’t give myself a high-five for a job well done.

I spend my time searching for that start, for that moment where I am confident enough to start. And then all I get is delay. And time is passing, and time is a wizard. And that thought that you’ll have to go through an existence with accomplishing your purpose is not really friendly.

How do you know your purpose?

I ask myself quite often. What is there for me? And sometimes I let my imagination free. I follow my imagination like a spectator. And you know what I notice? Even my imagination has boundaries. Set by society, by myself, by my sins, by what they say it’s a sin. Am I religious? Not quite. I’m spiritual let’s say. I might have faith. Yet to discover.

I think I was born loud. Good lungs. Usually people who change the world have soft voices. Calm and calculated. Stern yet sunny and soothing. But there’s a lucky start-up on my skies. And that star saved me from so many troubles. That star guided me to me. That’s the star where my grandmother lives now.

Again, back to purpose. I always like these dreamy activities, loose and not too sharp. And in the same time I loved geometry and space and finding hidden diagonals. I always loved to write and I participated in numerous competitions. I just did one mistake, I didn’t let my imagination run free. That’s why now it’s distorted by all these factors.

I said to myself that I’m a realist because this is what life had showed me. That day dreaming is for those who can afford it and if you lose yourself too much in it you might as well lose everything around you. There’s only one good thing about it. When you’re down you have an escape. You have that vivid corner of your mind where everything seems possible and you actually start to believe that it can be a future projection.

But then you have to be original. And you look for inspiration. Obviously you don’t look for it inside you, at first. We are copy cats. We look around first. Small steps and we manage to what we think others are doing better than us. But we’ll always be copy cats and that’s not the scope.

where’s that spark though? Why everything seems so unworthy of seeing daylight? Why nothing is ever good enough?

Ok I’m very rhetorical in this post. But I’m just wondering, what am I actually good for. What’s that secret talent or gift or call it whatever you want. I mean I know a few things I can do but what’s my greatest one. Or maybe is nothing and I’m just meant to be mediocre.

Imagine if one day tables turn and I’ll read these words from the winners perspective and I’ll be a cocky little bastard looking back and saying “you know, I always had this feeling that I’ll make it…” And then, in my cockiness I’ll be content. But then you have to be cocky sometimes, too.

Humbleness just humbles you more. You need to have that dose of audacity that makes you jump when there’s nothing under your feet.

I mean what can be better than doing what you love, what you’re really good at?

Again, as I said it before I’m a person who believes in destiny. Let’s say I’ve been shown that there’s a certain way things happen and sometimes I have no control of it. Let’s just say that when I believed there’s no escape, there was and it made my mind expand. And my mind absorbed this idea of new solutions like a sponge. And if you ask me, everything is possible. Except chasing away that demon that pokes my head with crazy thoughts.

I said to myself, what’s the best way to write a book. Use your own life as a source of inspiration. I mean, there it is, you have the setting, the characters, the situations. Will it be interesting? Well usually people get pretty caught up in the course of events. Will it be a good idea? Hell no! You have to be ready to accept outside criticism wich is probably going to hurt your feelings even more than you thought. Then you’ll be so vulnerable and walk around like an open book. And I don’t mind that but let’s just say i learned from early ages that you can’t really get fully accepted. Another idea gone to waste I guess. I’ll just have to publish it post-mortem.

But then it’s so discouraging when you have to write pure fiction. I feel my mind doesn’t help me anymore. I am writing purely to practice now and I know it will end, I’ll stop for now and who knows when I’ll start again.

I need to persevere. My posts get longer and longer with time. I had an average of 600 words per post when I started writing and now I can easily go 1000 in 10 minutes. The more you try to find your kickstart the more discouraging it gets. I mean look at J K Rowling. How can you ever beat that. Ok, I’m not stopping there but any other writer sounds better than you’ll ever do.

Should I let somebody else read it?

Not yet.

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

Thoughts of thoughts

I don’t know when you get your energy kicks, but mine is right now. I don’t sleep much. I can’t and when I can, it’s one of the best things I can get. I love sleeping and in the same time I’m not very succesful at it. Exactly like everything else in my life. What I really love, I can’t have. Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? (Alanis Morisette loop).

Anyway, me and my energy kick are doing fine for now. I didn’t write on the blog for quite a while because I had too many things on my mind, and honestly I didn’t know where or when to start. So I waited to settle down a little bit.

What goes through my mind? Oh, tons of things an ideas. Tons of projects and dreams and I can’t seem to reach where I want to. It’s not that I’m stuck on the negative aspects in my life. It’s not my way. I can’t find hope in the darkest moments. Don’t worry about my hoping skills.

I always thought of myself a person of no ambition. By nature, I am a person that loves comfort and stability. I like to have my own habits and privacy and I’m visibly bothered when I’m distracted and invaded. I like to grow, but I also like to enjoy my habits. I like to be challenged, it gives me a push but I still don’t consider myself ambitious. Ambition, in my opinion, means to reach a self-set target, by any means. Even if they don’t match your capacities/requirements/personality. It’s very impressive, when you can pass anything that comes your way.

Me, I like to prove that I can do things. But these things have to excite me. Most of the times I do things because I don’t like to let people down. I am always afraid that I will disappoint people’s expectations. But this can’t last for long with me. Redundancy is something that I can’t take for long. I need to know more or to be honest I like to know everything regarding what I do. I don’t like limitations. I always want to be in control even though I don’t want to be in charge. If that makes any sense.

Many times I seek satisfaction in what I do, because I don’t have much satisfaction in other aspects of my life. And I don’t mean material satisfaction, even though that’s a key factor too. I seek personal satisfaction and I like a job well done. I like to look at what I’ve done, and say to myself “Well, Gabz, you outdid yourself!” Yeah, cocky.

Sometimes I’m good at what I do, sometimes I’m very good and sometimes I’m careless. When I’m careless it means I don’t know much about what I’m doing or it just doesn’t spark in me… what is supposed to spark. I try to learn everything and to manage everything and yet sometimes I fail. I hate to think I’m not good at something. I’m one of those people who take failure personally. Too bad. This didn’t help me much.

I believe ambition comes with motivation. It can be your self-implemented goal that can trigger that motivation or it can be an outside source. Usually when people motivate themselves is because they want to achieve a material target or a career/position goal. I desire none. That’s why personally, I prefer the outside motivation. When other people grow you. But I’m also aware that you can’t be praised when you don’t do much.

You will say that everybody has material targets and I’ll strongly agree with you. But I don’t think amounts or goods… almost never. If y ou ask what’s my goal, is to be able to cover all my expenses and in the same time to be able to enjoy life in a good way. If you think that’s not a goal, it’s ok. I would like, for example, to be able to travel whenever I want to, be it for a weekend only. Just to be able to book and flight and be gone without thinking too much.

If you think that building an empire it’s a real goal, then I’ll agree with you too. Only that building an empire consumes a different kind of currency. Time. And it’s your time. You’re the only one who pays. And it involves possible failure, something that I can’t take well. It involves responsibilities, and I hate to be responsible for others.

Many times I sit and think about these things and in the world we live, I seem naive. Maybe I am. I still believe that goals can mean a beautiful family, time for yourself and all that. To be honest if you look at the world nowadays these are rare. I think the goals game might change.

Anyway, these are things that bother me from time to time. I often find myself loyal to the bigger picture but bitter to my daily routine. And I don’t know how to describe this feeling exactly and I hate myself sometimes that I can’t be a mercenary.

And all these thoughts and feels make me think of what I really want and this is where my dilemma starts. I find myself in the position of a 7 years old who’s being asked what he wants to be when he grows up. I am still tempted to say “ballerina”.

If only everything will be that easy. If only we’d know what to do or what we want. If only we wouldn’t find ourselves lost from time to time, in thoughts and promises of better opportunities. If only…

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans! Peace!

Fail to reboot

You know what’s the worst? When somebody you used to love becomes somebody… regular… again. That’s cruel… when your heart doesn’t skip a beat when you look at them and they don’t warm you up like they used to.

We run out of love, or we force ourselves out of love, and then the object of our adoration has no significance anymore. Is not that we completely take them out of our system, but they don’t have the same effect on us. Like a medicine that doesn’t do the job anymore. Your body just doesn’t respond to it.

It’s hard to have loved somebody and then just look at them plain. Simple. With no excitement, with no desire. And how much you used to feel those before. When their simple presence tormented and twisted the thoughts in your head. When you thought of them so much that you’d start dreaming of them at night.

Now you just sleep peacefully.

All that love gone to waste. You still look at them with that warm feeling, that “yeah, this was my favourite human once” and… that’s it. They made you feel so fuzzy and giggly, and every single thing that they said or did left you in awe. And now all that is mockery.

You go to sleep at night and you don’t feel the need to have them next to you. You don’t want to text them, even though before you were desperate to get in touch. You don’t have them constantly present in your thoughts and prayers… they are just drifting away. Apart.

If once they consumed your whole being, now you are somehow grateful they don’t. It’s like that love was also a burden, and not more than once you felt its pressure.

You still wish them well, you’ll always feel that way and if you don’t it means you never loved them. This is how love works for me. If at any point I gave a part of my life, of my time, of my heart to somebody and it was true, then it will always remain as an echo of warm feelings when it comes to them. And yes you can love more than one person, the difference is when you find the one you’ll love the most. That’s when stars align and fireworks crack all night and lit the sky. And even then things will not be easy. Love, as anything else in life, has ups and downs and it doesn’t make it any less real and amazing.

Starting to lose the chain of thoughts…

But it’s sad when you don’t need somebody anymore, when you don’t feel the need to share with them simple things, and when you don’t really care how they’re doing, or if they’re ok. It’s sad that you don’t want them like you used to. That you don’t replay in your mind all the nice moments that you’ve been through. You don’t think the whole day about the night before…

It’s sad that you don’t want to make them happy anymore and to protect them from anything bad that could happen. It’s sad that everything nice turned into spite. And you spit venom when you say their name. That’s resentment. And that’s still better than moving on. Moving on means game over. Resentment means you still want to play.

The day something they do doesn’t affect you anymore it’s a sad they for them. The day you see them with someone else and tears don’t gargle down your throat it’s the day your calvary is over. If the idea of them with someone else doesn’t make you lose sleep and burn with jealousy, then you’re done. Your herculean labours are over.

And it’s sad. How come a person your heart made an isle for, can become so… ordinary. If once you saw perfection in them now you see all their flaws. And it bothers you. No we are not blind. We saw everything before, it just didn’t bother us. Perfectly imperfect.

It’s sad that you want to find someone new and you let the dust cover their memory. It’s sad that all your projections are not including them. If before you imagined them next to you all along, now you just do math. You become a cold-blooded mathematician, analyzing every possible theory. Because now you’re awake.

With every part of our heart that we give away, we become colder. The more we used to give, the emptier we are left. We regenerate, but with new feelings, with new focus. No place for old feelings. You can’t rekindle something that is consumed. Let the wounds heal and look at the scars from time to time.

And sometimes love is not even consumed. It didn’t even get the chance to fully blossom. You HAD to cut it because it was actually poison ivy. And all those “what if” all those “what could’ve been”… those hurt. You didn’t even get the chance to mature your love. You didn’t have the chance to love enough. You just have to repress it, to pull back all those feeling that will never reach their purpose.

I regret the love I couldn’t give. I regret when I don’t have the chance to show somebody how good I can make them feel, how dedicated I can be to them. I regret that they’ll never know how I can love them… because they just don’t want to.

But then what can we do? We’re not left for dead; we just stand up and move on. Until one day our efforts will be rewarded and not only we’ll get back what we give, but we’ll not ne afraid to give some more.

We try, we fail sometimes but I always say that whatever was done with love can’t be blamed.

*

Can it be resurrected? Read between the lines.

It’s all love and afternoon writing shenanigans (for a change). Peace!

Tabloid inspired post

I am tired. I am tired of not being able to do what I want to. I am tired of shattered dreams, of insufficiency, of window shopping and so on. The worst part is that you can get all that with money. Money makes this world go round. And I’m not a kid but I still consider it so unfair.

There’s so much potential in some people who just don’t have the means. And some people, plain flat and useless are drowning in money. I mean we see everyday, on TV, on social media, the “influencers” of today. I mean, man, take the Kardashians. What’s their talent? Leaked porn videos. Inherited money? Their fake asses? And why is one of them one of the most influential people today? Why do we promote nudity and pornography when it comes to her and when it comes to simple people we are hypocrits. We can all agree that sex sells but then we are against it also. Where’s the sense here?

Why do I hear people say “Good for her, she was smart!”. What did she do, first of all? Lay on her belly? Name something notable for the good of mankind that she accomplished in her life? And don’t start with charity and donations. If you ask me this should be, by default, something rich people should do. Share the damn wealth, you have enough, help those in need if you can. It’s called decency. It’s called caring for your keen, help chidren, help people with disabilities. Help those who can’t help themselves.

The worst part is that the richer they get, the more they want. More and more money and fame, until they what? Where is the limit to this?

And children today take that as influence. We grew up having role models our parents, our grandparents, or brothers and sisters. We had different dreams. We wanted to be decent when we grow up. TV presenters, ballerinas, doctors, astronauts, etc. Nowdays they want to be famous by any means even if this usually ends with sacrificing their innocence.

They want to be people with no values, and escalate the levels of society without any dignity. The first lady of United States has a naked pictorial and she married the man she probably hates from the depth of her heart, for money and fame. But everything has a price.

Some of the people that most contributed to the good of humanity were humble and private. Even though they had so much to show and to share, their wisdom and common sense kept them on the ground, kept them anchored to reality with no desire to be worshiped. And the best part is that they deserved.

That’s the pattern nowdays, attention seekeing, over the night achieved fame. And I don’t mind when somebody who really deserves it, gets it. It’s not about that. I support and I can be happy for people who make it. But they need to inspire the others with something positive. Not sex tapes and scandals.

Want a sex tape, keep it for you. Watch it from time to time if you like, but to make something so private a public topic it’s a bit too much. Do whatever you want with your private life, who am I to judge. We all have our own sins and guilty pleasures.

Shouldn’t we be ashamed to have as a base, as a starting point, a sex tape? Aren’t morals working this way? I am not a conservative person. At all. My mind can open up to anything, anything. But I can’t take these fake, sex fueled “celebrities” and the huge influence they have on society. You should have sex because you want it, because you feel like it, because you thought about it, etc and it should remain there in your bedroom, or whateve place you choose. Does that make me conservative? So be it, then.

From what I know, and I happen to know quite well, public sex is an offence but then again we have no problem in making some boring porn the start-up of fame. Hypocrites man, hypocrites.

Our childen and their future children are watching this! They want to become this! What in the name of God! I have no children but if I will one day have and they’ll thell me when they’ll grow up that they want to be like the people I mentioned before, I will feel that I failed as a parent.

I wouldn’t want them to be like me, even. Not that I’m bad but I have my mistakes and my vices. And I know myself enough to admit that I’m not a role model. But I can work on myself and what I’m feeding to my children’s minds. I’ll want them to be decent human beings with common sense and respect for themselves. And it’s normal. Everybody should want that.

But I see more and more parents saying “go for it, take the money”, “do whatever it takes to reach there”, “as long as if benefits you, do it”. Stop it, please! You are encouranging your children, that you so hardly raised, to be cheap people, to sell themselves. You teach them how to take shortcuts and you protect them, until they will be faced with a tragedy and they won’t have a clue on how to hande it. They will be used of having everything, spoiled little brats, who never worked a day in their lives for something that they want. They will be used to just take.

Yeah, provide for your children, I strongly agree, but it’s a very fine line for when it’s too much. Don’t make them believe world is easy and they can have everything they ever want, because when they don’t, they will be so hartbroken, and so lost because you created this bubble around them.

Life is not about paparazzi chasing you, or your face on media every single day. A lot of celebrities suffer of depressions, drug abuse and unhappy marriages because they just don’t know how to handle fame. They are lost in a vertigo of temptations and vices and rarely come out of it.

Let’s be role models for our generations. Let’s make them want to be less like these superficial people and more like themselves. Let’s encourage their talents and abilities, rather than pushing them to a life of lies.

I don’t know why I am preaching so much tonight, my initial idea for this post was so different.

Anyway, it’s all love, and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!