Lonely are those with no memories

After being bored out of my mind and utterly unimpressed with any fucking thing, here I am in a totally unimpressive club. At least I have good company. But all this while it felt like something is about to happen. That little rush was inside me and just at the point of making peace with the fact that nothing will happen and I’ll have to go to sleep as disappointed as I was the entire time, there he comes.

I see him walking through the crowd and our eyes lock and I don’t let go until he’s next to me. I let him make a few steps and then I turn to see if he turns. I said to myself “if he turns godammit that’s it” and guess what? I turn and he turns and we both smile knowingly. Of course I turn around and pretend it meant nothing to me but the countdown has started. When will he come and talk to me? Of course this kind of moments seem an eternity but I didn’t have to wait long.

Here he is saying “Hi” and so damned close to my face. He doesn’t say much he just grabs my hand and guides me a bit further away from my entourage. A lil shy there mister? The he asks for my name, his eyes locked in mine. And he just doesn’t let go. I do because I don’t usually like to stare this long at people. Haha

He likes my name and my eyes. Thanks, I got them both from my momma. He likes my dress. “Thanks” I say. I’m a bit too formal for the club though. The music is so loud and I’m 70% deaf so we have a prety awkward conversation with me asking 10 times to repeat what he said. He comes closer and he hugs me, eyes deep in mine, and then our lips lock. Soft. He tells me he’s an army man. “So young” it’s the first thing that runs through my mind. And so gentle. His eyes make his most noticeable feature but he has a pleasant face with a greek nose. It’s something about him that I really like, even though I expect every moment to be disappointed. I can switch in a moment from liking somebody.

My people left and there we are, locking eyes and kissing. He’s asking me what I want to do, if I’m gonna go to my place. I tell him “we’ll see later, let’s just go out of the club”. He holds my hand and we’re out. We walk around a little bit and looks at me expectantly. I pretend I have no clue what’s happening. He’s asking me if I want to have a drink in his room. In my mind it’s the usual “yeah, here we go that’s the cliché”. But I don’t want the night to end and I like his company, and I can always leave if I don’t like it anymore. And heck, I’m far from home.

We go to his hotel and he never lets go of my hand. We reach and of course he starts tidying up. Men! Just leaving everything upside down. Even army men make no exception when they’re on holiday. He pours a drink while I admire the beautiful view. It’s a really beautiful view of a very decadent city.

He takes my hand again and he asks me if i like to dance. Well, of course. Next thing I know he plays a Latino song and tells me to remove my shoes. He then places one of my hands on his shoulder and then takes the other one and we start swaying around the room. Oh the man can dance! I giggle like a school girl. He takes the lead perfectly, he sways and swirls and turns me around like a pro. I absolutely love it. I don’t think I’ve been living a more delicious moment in my life.

We keep on doing this for at least half an hour, laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. And then we kiss…

We saw each other one more time before he flew, to a whole other part of the world but closer to my world. And today he told me he never met someone like me before.

You know what, I heard that a lot lately. And it’s the first time I can truly say it back.

Life is a collection of memories. Of course you have categories and types but you always have that corner of best memories. The ones you go through sometimes with warmth and a little melancholy but with absolute gratitude and fulfillment that they happened in your life.

It’s all love and writing shenanigans. Peace!

The muse comes, but mostly goes

Sometimes I look at couple’s pictures and I try to find that sparkle, that something that keeps them together. That privacy that only people who are accomplices in love have it. Yeah I spend some time looking at their pictures, because that’s the only thing I have, especially when they are not people I know directly. Or sometimes it’s somebody I like and I didn’t know he/she had a partner and then try to see if they match their levels of reciprocating. Of course pictures are not reality. I know people who never posted pictures of them together and when you see them in real life they are the happiest.

But I realized that I like to make scenarios in my head. I mean if I like the person I want their partner to love them crazy, because in my opinion they deserve it. If I have a feeling that their partner is cold I’m like “Hey, you need to shower my friend with love, you ungrateful potato”.

But yeah, this is one of my unusual hobboies. Weird yeah. I’m weird, is not news. I just want people to be loved as I think they deserve. And anyway is not that I’m the only one who loves scenarios. Everybody does. Especially when they are not in them and they can gossip about it.

There are a lot of people living other people’s lives because theirs is boring as fuck. I know a few and I directly talk about them. Haha, I wish I could name them. Oh! how much fun we’ll have!

It’s human nature, we want to see what’s happening in the neighbour’s backyard. If something exciting happens we feel alive. Boom! Time to live a bit! That’s why we like movies, books and gossip. It teleports us in parallel universes where exciting things happen. Not only exciting! Outrageous, shameless, on a level we can’t afford to reach.

Routine is a monster. We want scandal! If there’s none, we’ll make some! Scandal! Scandal! Or simple thrill.

Yeah we all have our buttons, our weirdness, our little turn-ons. We are stalkers, creeps, surveillance cameras, etc. We just don’t like to admit it.

Or we are just a few in this elite circle of weirdos. Mybe it’s just me. Maybe people are normal. Though I doubt it. Strongly, fiercly doubt it.

Rarely I get the chance to write about things I feel inspired about (I don’t know how to properly describe them). Those things that are really smart and witty, and light up like an idea bulb in your head.

Those are coming to me at the wrong time. Always! At the worst time! For example: in the shower (most of them, and by the time I’m out they’re gone), when I’m driving, in the gym, when I have a task to do (especially then), even during sex sometimes (that’s the worst).

So yeah, inspiration comes at the wrong moments and it’s long gone by the time you are ready to lay the words down. The paradox! And you know what’s the irony? That even the words that your brain masters at that time are of a rare quality. It’s like you’re a sensei of words, they make so much sense and are so fucking artistic and meaningful that you just have to stop for a minute and kiss your own forehead with the utmost pride.

And then, on the other side – the dark side, the sad side – when you actually prepare and sit down to write something, it’s not freakin working. It’s like your brain becomes all of a sudden retarded. It’s like when somebody asks you what’s your favourite something of all time and your brain is opening all the files at once or it just can’t find anything. Blank! And you’re just there like an idiot, mouth open. Brain.exe has stopped. You need to reboot the entire system.

So yeah, basically when you want to do something purposely it just doesn’t work. It’s always the case.

Oh, and we also live in an era of distraction. I want to write and next thing you know I’m deep on some thoughts about how I will help ONGs in Africa or I’m deep in videos of cats doing stupid shit. Or no shit. They are amazing. I love them. See, it’s that easy.

Anyway, it’s very easy to stop writing as well. I was trying to keep a constant pace and once I fell into the trap of “I’ll do it tomorrow” it’s “Hasta la vista baby!” and almost never “I’ll be back”! Please read in Arnold’s voice. Thank you!

All this being said I will go lurk on social media for a while.

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

Chidi-ching-ching

I realized I’m not a very ambitious person. It didn’t take me long. I know this for a while because I feel the lack of it. Easy as it sounds.

I have no hunger for money even though I like nice things. Now that’s where the tricky part is. I do like comfort but I don’t like money in particular. I kinda hate it because it fuckin makes the world go round. I hate it because it causes poverty and war. I hate it because a bunch of hungry, selfish monsters rule the world. I hate it because it changes people. I hate it because it makes people discriminate other people. I hate it because it doesn’t buy things that are more important than material possessions.

My goal until now, was not to make money. My goal so far, was to enjoy my life. And you know what? I fuckin did mate. I have so many splendid memories and you know what? They’re fuckin free. Priceless. We should trade memories on the stock market because a lot of rich people don’t have them and they’ll pay good money for them.

And again, I just fell into the trap of selling. I just said we should trade memories which involves selling and buying and here I am in the money territory because they do fuckin make the world go round.

I don’t want to admit this. Buuuuut we can’t live without it after all. But we can choose what kind of life we want to live. Some things are meant to be done at a certain age. You all know what I’m talking about. Life is meant to be lived in some ways some times. Not always, but I’m just talking about the impact of some experiences. The intensity of them. You can’t do drugs at 70, makes no sense. OK bad example hahahaha it was just trying to make you get the point.

Moving on.

So, I was saying I am not an ambitious person. I love life and I love traveling and thank God I’ve been blessed and I’ve seen soooo many places. I left Romania when I was 21 and I never looked back. I didn’t make money anywhere else I lived and worked. Not in the UK, not in Greece and goddammit not in Dubai. I can file for bankruptcy anytime now. Ahahaha I’m watching too many Wall Street related documentaries recently.

I made money to live. I borrowed money and so on. I bought a car and I moved alone. These are my biggest accomplishments. Oh and of course visiting almost 20 countries. 1 more and I’m there. Oh God this the thing I like to do the most. Except packing and unpacking. Yuck! Sucks balls!

Oh I also don’t like branded stuff. Thank God, otherwise I would be very skinny. (I won’t eat in order to buy Louboutins. But I have a feeling I won’t give up on food for Louboutins). Ahahahah please this is a pamphlet, treat it accordingly

Anyway yeah I didn’t have grand financial accomplishments and my family thinks I’m a failiure mostly. You know, I can’t even keep a man and I’m not making good money on top of that. I also wasn’t able to catch a sheik in my net.

Again, family, take it easy! I was only talking about granpa. Gee I’m on a roll. A sushi roll.

Again going back. Damn you ADHD! Mixed with a bit of Tourette.

Going back Gabi, you can do it. Focus!

Do you guys read this with a funny voice inside your heads? This is how it’s supposed to be done. And role playing.

So yeah, I was just thinking that yeah I lived my life, I have great memories, bla bla, I am not such a bad person so maybe it’s time to, you know, swim a bit with the sharks, take a few risks.

And definitely I want to travel more so I need more money. And living along is expensive too, and having a car is expensive and breathing is expensive as well in Dubai. But worth it if you ask me.

Anyway, just wanted to share this. And I’m ending abruptly because I actually forgot my train of thoughts.

It’s all love and evening shenanigans. Peace!

Victory in a trap

I get it man! I get it! I always get what I what with one condition. I can’t keep it! That’s the damn thing about this wicked life I call my own. It doesn’t make any sense, I know, but it does for me.

You see, I sometimes made it happen, I push for it or I get it just like that, out of thin air when I least expected it. But I always get what I want. When I don’t want it that badly, it always stays. When I want it the most, it never does. When I want it the most, it hurts me.

Then what’s there for me? I mean if I can’t have it because I want it, then what’s the solution. What can I have?

I don’t know about what I deserve, I’m not fooling myself that I deserve the best. I have my demons, made my mistakes. Made some terrible ones. I don’t even seek for forgiveness. This is how much I started to assume them. I just want things to be easy. Ok easiER. No that’s not the word, I don’t even believe in easy. Nothing in easy. Maybe you get lucky but it’s never easy. It’s always so goddamn nerve-wrecking. Anyway I don’t want it easier, I want it transparent.

It’s ridiculous how much we lack responsibility and honesty in our bones. I have a very short temper and I’m just like that, a bull in the middle of the arena or on the green fields. Doesn’t matter wich, I’m just a bull. Thick legs, always on the ground, freaking big horns, and ready for anything. I know there’s the sky above me and the ground beneath my feet. I know what I am and I do it my way. I can always become infatuated over a small thing but it’s ok. I think I somehow manged to control it over time. And I think the charm is lost.

I mean I love spontaneity because it’s so entertaining. It works for me. And it brought a lot of great things my way.

Leaving analogies behind, is not that I’m a very transparent person myself, but I’m true to myself at least. I don’t facbricate another person when I look in the mirror, I don’t fabricate it outside neither. I mean what’s the worst that can happen. You’ll never be able to please everybody. And who ever does that? No-freakin’-body.

And I always get the opposite. Anyway, the irony.

I always end up in a rant, with my feelings, the world, the universe. Each and every single one of us it’s an universe by default. If you could only disect a person to see the ideas, the feelings, the emotions. The colours…

Drafts from when I finally conquered you B.

P. S. Did you notice how much ADHD is in this text?

It’s not all love today, but the usual evening writing shenanigans. Peace!

The doers, not the sharers

Sorry but I can’t take it anymore. All this thing of sharing tragic videos of whatever animals, whatever motivational speakers, one sadder than the other just makes me lose it. You can think whatever you want of me but I’ll be damned if I’ll share any video that says cows don’t give milk without giving birth, chickens are victims for laying egss, let’s be vegetarian because you have to cut your own pig and because we are cavemen. Honestly we were doing just fine as cavemen. And there’s a freakin cycle in this world, isn’t it. Yeah tell me about elephants being extinct because fuckers want to sell ivory, tell me about the white rhinoceros, the white tigers and lions and the whales but come on, pigs and chicken and cows. Is not that I’m fuckin insensitive but it’s becoming such a soap opera.

We just need reasons to cry and feel pity. OK the world is going to hell, we can all see that. We are brainwashed, lied to and abused every single damn day and yet we add more to it.

You know who wins at this and who does it right? Those people who are actually doing things and not posting things. The winners are those people who planted millions of trees and restored the habitat in South America. Or those people who took care of pandas and breeded them until they’re not extinct anymore. Or Leonardo di Caprio for trying to clean the planet. The winners are those who DO.

The fuck you’re doing behind a screen thinking of yourself to be so righteous and a savior of this planet. Go clean the streets with the laborers and then we talk. Oh that’s degrading work for you isn’t it? You prefer to post videos from your super expensive phone / tablet / laptop.

Call me whatever man but a lot of things will be solved if all of us will just participate to this massive campaign of saving the planet and not only talking about it.

Don’t you think it will be more efficient to go on a recycling campaign every weekend than to go on social media.

Oh so the video reached 2 million people? Oh how many crying reactions to this! Oh the turtles are covered in plastic. But you know that you can go save them, right? And out of these 2 million people who actually gives a crap? Tell me! How many stop buying plastic bottles or get all their groceries without plastic bags. How many of them stop throwing their chewing gum or cigarette butts on the street. How many?

Oh so you did your part to saving the world by sharing a tearful video just to go back and do your usual shit.

And you know what bothers me the most. It’s the tragedy. Oh God the scenarios they come with. The commercials. Christ it’s doomsday and we are all murderers!

We can be educated through positive facts also. We can be educated by not being blamed.

I eat meat and I fuckin love it man. I’m not going to be hypocritical about it not a single damn moment. I love it, I wanna eat it everyday. I will not turn vegetarian because somebody is forcing me. First it has to be your own choice. If it’s a matter of religion or any belief you are into then I respect that to the max. But if you tell that I should be a vegetarian because it’s a trend and because I don’t know who says that, then I’m out.

And you can judge me. I honestly don’t give a damn. The power of positivity is way bigger and can actually make a change. Let’s get out there and change. We are fuckin 7 billion people. We can clean this place like it was never dirty.

And no, I’m not an example, I don’t do it but I also don’t try to make people cry at the sight of some super sad video.

I would love to help but I’m also a part of this millennial laziness and shitty lifestyle.

It’s a bit harsh I know and probably sounds absolutely cruel but I strongly believe that sharing dramatic social media content (that’s what it is after all, and it makes good money for some people by going viral) won’t magicly solve world’s issues. Honestly. Awareness can be brought in so many different ways.

And let me ask you, all these fancy commercial for these campaigns cost shit loads of money. Won’t this money help a cause better that going to the actors pockets? Just saying.

I was reading somewhere that one of Michael Jackson’s charity concerts raised so much money that could take Africa out of misery and yet see Africa today. Who freakin took those money? And all the charities ever made for Africa could have made it the richest continent and yet, look at Africa!

Let’s not just cry about it online. Let’s not just point fingers at those who eat meat or whatever petty millennial crime. Let’s DO something about it. I’m instigating to cleaning revolutions and rescue missions and going to the extreme.

But it’s more comfortable at home, I know, and balls are bigger online. I totally agree. Just don’t be hypocritical about it. Yeah we all got the planet in this state. Some more than others. I didn’t litter the planet by eating meat tho. And also it didn’t change the climate. Other factors did.

I’m ranting again. I’m not aiming at anybody in particular and I’m not going to answer any comments. This is just how I feel about it and I’m not gonna change it because it doesn’t tickle everybody’s ears.

It’s all rants sometimes and evening shenanigans! Peace!

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!

Icarus, but with reason

Recently, I participated in a graduation project. The students, a girl and a young man, were filming a short movie. The girl is the director and this is her dream, to make movies. The young man is the camera man and he is obviously passionate about that. Dream big they say. And these kids do. I saw it on their faces.

I saw the passion and the unlimited possibilities they can dream of. They see no obstacle, they just believe it can happen. You see how their faces have no trace of worry. No dark circles around their eyes. Their eyes don’t have that shadow of sadness and despair. They are just young adults dreaming of a great future. And this is exactly what they should be. Young and careless. For now. This is the age to be free and daring, to throw yourself at life without fear, without doubt. Don’t let anybody cut your wings.

I want to see this on my children’s faces. I want to see them worry only about the small things that make their universe. Like where to position the lights so they can get the best shot for their movie. I want to see their eyes clear and joyful.

Too many adults put their burdens on their children. They cage them when their young, they teach them to speak only when is their turn, to be docile, to stop daring or keep their heads high. They cut all their excitement and drowns them in limitations.

They’ll go into this world with fear of rejection, of being misunderstood or of being too… themselves. Don’t do this. Give them power, give them strength, give them peace to take care of their own wings. They have time to be adults, they have time to worry about everything bad in this world. Don’t add to it. Don’t break them when they are not yet strong enough to recover.

Send them out there as champions, as whole beings, don’t scatter them to pieces. Build confidence in them.

See, I couldn’t stop staring at the girl. First of all she was very beautiful. What really impressed me is that she had a lot of common sense, decency and was doing her best to praise everybody. Probably she is spoiled at home, or she’s daddy’s little princess but who cares. As long as she’s out here in this world trying to be the best version of herself and so humble and decent, it can only prove that her parents did a great job and she found the essence in what was given to her.

Most of us think that other people are successful because they’re born with a silver spoon, but I believe that your fundament as a person is your family and how you’re brought up. If there are values imprinted into your mindset you’re a winner. Is not about what you’re given, is about what you do with what you’re given.

If you’re given peace, you’ll never start a war. If you are given oppression then you’ll not know anything else.

Most of us are broken. Since childhood. We grow up faulty. We grow up hiding, deceiving, manipulating because we’re full of insecurities. We don’t grow up with self-esteem, we just feel that we’re never enough. We grow up looking for the same thing that broke us, because that’s what we know best. We don’t really better ourselves, even though we try. And if we do, if we become the best version of ourselves, there’s still something that will bring the darkness back. Be it vices, habits, failed relationships, failed professions, unusual desires, we’ll have a constant reminder that we’ll never be good enough. And that only side will drag us down more than anything else. We are self-destructive anyway.

See, I’m not being drastic here. If you sit and think about it a little bit, it makes sense. I’m not saying we’re not great people, I’m just saying we have our weaknesses, our demons. That won’t make us any less human than others. Nobody can see our fractures, nobody can sense all these storms we keep inside, but we do. We know everything so well, written in our bones and we can choose to bury it, to deny it, to ignore it but denial is not the way.

A lot of adults are acting like children these days. Immature and lost just because, probably, when they were supposed to worry about childish things they were forced to be adults. And they grew tired. They learned to worry about everything. And later on, when they’re alone they learn to let go, to bring back that childish selfishness. They learn to forget and to remember themselves. And yeah, you might think they act irresponsible, but for themselves is that well-deserved break they never had, that dreamy way of living. And they change a lot, they play, they get spoiled and careless.

I’m escaping, between the lines, in bold characters.

I was just so impressed with this feeling of calmness that these kids portrayed and I liked it. I liked it a lot. I would love to look at my children’s faces and see the same. One day… But in the same time, I have a feeling that history will repeat itself.

I’m not being superstitious, I don’t want to be. Who knows what awaits. It might turn out just fine. But then again, I was brought up to think of the worst first. My take off is almost always hijacked. But still I departed. We all do. The destination is the same.

It’s all love and writing shenanigans. Peace!

I wish I wasn’t right

I couldn’t actually write lately. I was empty. Like when you’re not really having anything much happening in your life. All cool. Maybe just too bored because of a sprained ankle and mad at the incapacity of moving around.

Today it just hit me. And it’s not the first time. I asked myself what do I need from a man and why I couldn’t find someone to stay. Looking back I’m finding a sort of pattern. Or maybe a clear one. Most of them did not have a pair to tell me, and themselves, what’s going on.

See this is the thing, a fairly independent woman can’t be around a man who’s not… a man. I mean why would you need a whiner and a cry-baby? After all, us, women, should be the sensitive keen. Why should we spend our time with somebody more insecure than we are?

When I say man, I say MAN. I say strength, power, respect. A man who is responsible and supportive. I’m not talking sissies, running when the first problem arises. I’m talking MAN. Be freakin’ caps. Be bold. Assume yourself. Stand out of the crowd of all these bad examples.

Why would I want a man who’s more dramatic than I am? This is the reason I fell out of love with a great guy I’ve been for a year and a half. He was everything you probably wanted in a man but he had this one thing. He’ll be overly dramatic. And if he is upset he’ll not even talk or let you help. I mean that’s what women do. Usually men complain about that scenario when “Honey, what’s wrong?” gets “nothing” as an answer and still she acts like you told her she’s fat.

Now, imagine a man in that exact situation. It’s not really appealing, right? And I should not use this poor guy as an example because he is all heart and kindness. My apologies for that.

But, yeah, I mean where’s my turn? Because as a woman, by default, I have my own little scenes and moments of sort. Why are you taking it from me? Jokes aside, we don’t want no drama kings.

You need somebody to look up to. A man who will say “you know what, we’ll do this!” whenever you can’t decide what you want. And not in a dominating way, but with guidance. A man who will say whatever he wants to say to your face and not wait until the situation is favourable for him or when you’ll be over it. A man who will have the cojones to tell you what his intentions really are.

Why should you waste your time with a woos, who’s thinking that being a man equals being an asshole. You know you’ll end up despising an asshole but you’ll always remember and respect a gentleman. You’ll always remember him as that man who was brave enough to be black on white.

A while back I came across a person who, just like that, through a simple initiating conversation, made his intentions clear. From the very beginning, no time to even fantasize for a second. He deserves a statue, in a world where the majority of men don’t have what they need to come clean. He just decided to make himself understood from the first moment and I didn’t look at him with anything else but respect. He did not torment me in any way, he did not make me feel anything less than I am.

After this being said, you as a woman, know what to do. No, we are not obsessed with you guys, and we will not break down and die if you say “no” to us. We will freakin’ move on because we have better things to do. Women get easily distracted when they want to, so if they want to erase your memory don’t worry, they’ll do it. But don’t play stupid games, of coming and going and all this stupid childish bullshit.

If you want something, say it. If you don’t want it, say it! If you want half of it, say it! Men really think we’re so damn sensitive. That we suffer. Man, we give birth to your ugly faces, enduring a pain that you’ll never endure, we’re your home for 9 months, and the only thing your ungrateful asses do when they come out is to disrespect and look down at our species.

Good for nothing jerks some of you. This is how you spend your days, catching victims in your web of lies. What a shameful result to those hours of labour.

Moving on, you might say that I’m resentful. Nope. I am just looking around. Is not just me, there’s a bunch of other similar opinions. And I feel like adding around a thousand of exclamation marks and a few memes.

I wonder where are those times when men will hunt a wild animal with their bare hands. Now they’ll say there were no animals in the woods. Now they use moisturizer before they go to bed. And that’s not even a bad thing, they just don’t grow balls anymore. There. I said it.

And I’m not a feminist either. No sir, I find it exaggerated. It just bothers me that out of ten men you’ll probably not find a single one to be straight to the point. They don’t have the courage to say things when they are meant to be said, they’ll rather not answer your call than to be forced to clear things up, they’ll rather be cowards than real men.

And God forbids if somebody treats them the same way. The level of victimization will be unreachable. God forbids you hurt their shiny little manhood and return the treatment. You can’t rely on them anymore, they have issues, they’re not the pillars of a family anymore. Actually they’re the first ones to break this institution because a woman will never give up so easily. I’m talking facts, I’m talking statistics. And I’m talking new generations and this thirty-ish generation that I’m part of as well.

A generation before that, they’re still good. The forties are still good.

People say it’s just a Dubai phenomenon. I hear these stories from everywhere, not only from Dubai. Men nowadays lack commitment. They lack strength and sense of responsibility. This generation I’m talking about, lacks basic common sense attributes. They’re lost and they’re not reliable in any way. I am on this dating scene and I see it. It can’t be a matter of choice, my choice, I can’t possible chose them all the same pattern. It’s their pattern.

I believe in looking at your man with admiration. I believe in supporting them and loving them because you know they’ll do the same to you. But nowadays they just take, without giving anything in return. They’re boring, empty, they’re not worth fighting for. They have no values or morals. I believe in feeling protected and safe around a man. I feel that nowadays they only run away. From everything.

I now great men too, I know they exist. It’s not a myth. They’re just only few left. You have to go through a lot to find them.

And yeah, it’s exaggerated. Obviously. But you can’t tell me it’s not true. And if you’re a man in your thirties who is acting accordingly, please get in touch. I lost my patience and my hope.

I would love to write a lovey dovey article next time.

And I’m sure I don’t need to add a disclaimer to this because if you don’t fit the pattern you’ll not even blink to this.

It’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!

 

Let’s debate

I read an article a while ago and I badly wanted to coment on it.

You can read it here.

The article starts with a beautiful “By no means am I being sexist or offending women” which let’s be honest, actually means that you have something to say that women won’t like. From here, the logical deduction that a dude wrote the piece. And there is no name of this dude who writes on a “sensational” type of site “UAE viral”.

Why no cojones, bro? Just say your name at the end of the article like a proper journalist. Be responsible of what you write. Assume your opinions. This is the way it should be.

Moving on, this is the first thing I noticed about this article, the anonymous non-sexist, non-misogynistic writer.

“Anyone who has traveled around will realize that some, if not most, women in the UAE start to get a bigger ego and act more stuck up with guys compared to women living in other countries. I would advise the women reading this to take this article with a grain of salt before bombarding the comment section.”

Even though I tend to partially agree with him in the first part of the paragraph, what punches my temper is his advice on how to read the article and the all knowing attitude. My friend, again, you obviously wrote this article to stir shit up. Don’t go all shy now! And we all now how Internet works: more clicks, more comments, more likes means more business and more money. You’re on a website that promotes viral things.

I said I would partially agree with the first part of the paragraph. I live here for almost seven years. For some it may seem a lot, for some I may seem a newbie. But given the fact that this country is 46 years old, I guess it’s quite enough to form an opinion.

So, as a woman, I can tell you that this “princessy” endemic among women is quite a trend. It’s true that men here are a bit too oriented to the material side of this subject and they have this certainty that money buys everything, so to be sure that they won’t miss, they spoil the women they want by their side. Or for the night!

This is the true ego. The fear of rejection. Try taking her for a walk and do your best to make her go home with you at the end of the night. Ah, yeah, money work faster and don’t require brain cells. Yey, the recipe to success.

And I think it’s wrong. If a woman will expect only this from a man, if the only purpose is to get his money, that’s fucked up.

Now, you tell me. If women will be either showered with presents or approached by men in the club or whistled at by the beach, or followed in the mall, what will they become? A bit stuck up, wouldn’t they? See the order. Who does all that? A desperate bunch of men who think we’ll stop and declare them endless love when they come up with these childish rituals of mating. And now I ask you: If a woman looks at you and smiles and tries to give you attention, what would you become? A bit stuck up, wouldn’t you?

In a country that’s made of almost 80% minorities, where you can find almost all nationalities and all type of customs, where we all try to find a way to co-exist by being politically correct and to accept everything and everybody as it is, I think sometimes there’s a clash when it comes to certain situations.

“Emirati women have a naturally high ego due to the fact that they are the superior ‘local’ race. Expat men have little to no chance of comfortably flirting with an Emirati woman. Be a little bit too pushy and you just may end up in jail. Even the government doesn’t welcome the approach, by not even allowing UAE women’s children to gain automatic citizenship. Only Emirati men will have the courage, financial capability and favor with the law to confidently approach Emirati women.”

This is again something related to customs and to the local boundaries of a country. If other countries are welcoming the mix of “locals” with other nationalities it’s again a matter of choice. We are talking here about a muslim country that was built out of sand and it became one of the most progressive places in the world.

It’s a place of freedom for all the expats to live as they wish. I did not encounter any difficulty in living here, more than any other place. And I’m talking from the experience of other 3 countries. We all have everything we need, and it’s so much to say about this topic that I’ll probably have to write another article.

My main idea is that if they don’t make our life harder in this country, why won’t we comply with their rules and traditions. Are we conquerors? Are we here to burn the land and take the women? Is it your main issue the inapproachability of Emirati women? It bothers you that in an Arabic country you can’t flirt with the local women?

“As for expat women, their boosted ego comes from the fact that their value is several multiples more than it would be living back in their home countries. The reason for this is a simple supply/demand calculation. As per official statistics, the UAE population has a shocking percentage of 69% men. Which means for every 3 women there are 7 men. This is only the general statistic. To be even more specific, in the age range of 25-54, for every 3 women there are 10 men! This ratio is the worst in the world, second only to Qatar.”

This paragraph might be the one that pissed me off the most. Read the first sentence. How do you know my value back home? How do you calculate the value of a woman back home and abroad? Please share with me. And how do you know how valuable do you think I am?

And what is that “their value is several multiplies more”? Might want to revise that.

And the second sentence. That is offensive. Are we merchandise? Are we supply. Man, what did you turn this into? See this is the main problem with men, we are seen as supply. We are not stuck up, we are considered merchandise and not all of us is.

Then we have some statistics to help out with the merchandise. Great! A very researched article. Well done! (sarcastic in case you didn’t notice)

This extremely imbalanced ratio create a higher demand for women. This results in average or below-average women being treated like queens. Women coming from abroad will get a sudden shock where they realize that as soon as they landed there are men battling for their attention. This immediately boosts the woman’s ego, and sometimes (if not most of the times) leads her to stick her nose in the air and being stuck up.”

This paragraph is a pure example of poor journalism. The tabloid kind of journalism, Gossip one. I can’t even dissect this. First of all, skipping the grammar part, we are still merchandise and that is nerve-wrecking and secondly: who are you, man? How do you know what we realize and what boosts our ego? This paragraph does not even deserve commentaries. I will pretend I didn’t read it.

“In the UAE, men are aggressively competing to please women, showering them with gifts and expensive dates, when they can get much better women with less effort from another country.  This makes women in the UAE expect to be treated better and set the standard very high.”

Much better women. Bro what are you doing here? You could have made it easier for yourself, but here you are digging your grave, instead. First of all this is offensive for Emirati women. They will read this and they’ll be like “you piece of shit do you think we’re not good enough?”.

Are you arab, by any chance? Are you local? Are you in your twenties? Are you frustrated? Some websites are banned here, it’s true, but you can use your imagination and do something about these frustrations.

What’s the universal standard for a woman? For all women? Please enlighten us.

Instead of writing about particular section of this “merchandise” that you present here, you chose to generalize everything and everybody. If I wanted to agree with you at the beginning of this “article”, because to be honest, it is true that this phenomenon is maybe more accentuated than other countries, I can’t. Because this is only a part of the story. There are people here in this country who are looking for something else, who are paying their own rent and that doesn’t make them stupid or stuck up. They just go for the guys they like not for the ones who only want to finance in “merchandise”.

And you should be familiar by now with the term “gold digger”. I guarantee that every society has it, knows it and debates it. I assure you that things are no different if we talk about them. But you chose to generalize everything and everybody. Well done!

“Unfortunately, in the UAE, a materialistic effort is often mistaken for a “better treatment”, leaving men with bad financials ‘forever lonely’.”

This is my favourite sentence and I consider it a triumphant ending to this example of journalism. If the first part may be true, the second part makes me cry. Oh, such a pity we didn’t get you from the beginning. Actually this was the issue. We pity here men with bad financials. Well, in your world of “Women are all gold diggers” you might be right, but I can show you some guys with bad financials that will put Casanova to shame. And they have something that it’s called CHARISMA and will even put a billionaire back in its place.

Something that you probably lack.

CONCLUSION: If you want to do this, be responsible. If you want to generalize everything and everybody, then bring more to the table. This is just poorly written. And even though you didn’t mean to be sexist or misogynistic, in the end you were. And my response is of course on the same note, or maybe a bit more because I’m a woman and I can do it better. You asked for it.

You also didn’t have the courage to sign the article, which makes you weak, again. You wanted to write something viral and to bring a debate in the comments. This is my debate. As you took the right to write it I took the right to answer.

P.S: If you get paid for this, I want in.

Message me here if you want to talk. I also feel that I’ll have more topics to write on from this site. Keep it coming!

It’s all love and late night debates. Peace!