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!

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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!

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 not call it a book review

See, I don’t really read motivational books. Or raising self-esteem books. Or personality books. Self-help, money making, career ascending and so on. Not because I’m too good for that, but because I don’t believe in an international recipe for… basically anything.

And the second thing I don’t like it’s the tone of these books. It sounds like it’s enlightened and shit. And I don’t think it’s the case.

First of all, nobody found the key to a perfect life, or succes or to becoming a money making machine  by reading a motivational book. But through hard word and perseverence and so on. We all know the drill.

Recently, I read a book about how many fucks to give, basically. The subtle art of giving them. Ok, I guess we all know by now the name of the book.

The subtle art of not giving a f*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living the Good Life by Mark Manson. Why I bought it? Because it’s orange as fuck and it has a catchy title. Perfect marketing right there. And also because I was interested on learning how to give less fucks. In time I taught myself how to reduce the amount of fucks I give, but then again, you know, it doesn’t kill to know more, to learn more.

I started reading it. Catchy intro, basically something you need to hear. A few good examples also. Some do’s and don’ts. Good lecture. For a while. See, this is what I don’t enjoy when it comes to a book, no matter what genre. The stalling. It starts so good and then it stalls.

Examples become a bit irrelevant, words become a bit too twisted and boom there you are. You are about to not give a fuck about this book. And to be honest the book is a bit too american-ish for my taste.

Anyway, I am not here to claim that I’m better at anything, I’m just sharing some impressions. If I would write a book of this keen I will just base it solely on my experience and make it clear that it’s my personal shit and I learned so and so from it. If other people relate to it, even better. If they learn something, great! But I don’t expect everybody to feel the same about it. Anyway, I’m drifting away.

That’s why these books seem a little herd-ish. I mean, we should be able to learn how to help/motivate/improve ourselves by experiencing practical things. Theory works for a while it’s true, at least to give us an impulse, but practice is the base of everything.

I think less ignorance will also help a lot. And to be honest, no, it’s not trendy to be a sheep. Be you. Be your own damn self. Some things might work for you or they might not. You may feel strong today and weak as fuck tomorrow. It’s ok. Don’t stress about it. Move on. I think we all have the ability to give less fucks if we put our mind into it.

And so, I resumed the book. Basically this is the idea but it’s more elaborated in term of what and when to give a shining fuck. It’s a good read, I’m not trying here to undermine it. I just share what I felt.

I am not a hater or anything, I recommend self-improvment and especially reading. Not matter if it’s motivational books or other kind. Reading is always good. It stimulates, it keeps you alert, it keeps you open minded.

I admit I read some really cheesy and tearful motivational books at some point in my life. They helped, to be honest. They made me feel better, I admit, because they were about people drowning in more shit than I did, or about how kindness can change somebody’s life. Ok ok, it was just one book, I admit: “Chicken Soup for the Soul”, another international best seller. I can’t review it. I will look like a villain.

So, yeah, I’m just here, behind my screen, a blogger/writer wannabe, talking about a bestseller. But then again, it’s my cybercorner.

It’s all love and daytime smartass writing shenanigans. Peace!

Read the footnotes

“The things she’s seen. The places she’s been. The people she’s met. She’s filthy rich. There’s nothing material you can give that will satisfy her more than moments. Give her joy and give her your time and she’ll never want anything else. She’s what you see, she’s just like that. Existing without any tricks. Ah there’s one trick. She has too much to give.

She likes long rides and black coffee. She likes unplanned things and late nights. She likes to talk and dance. She is warm and brave. She’s a brave girl and she learns fast. She learns from everything and everybody. She loves her time alone but she never refuses good company. If she makes mistakes she’s sorry. If she goes too far she’ll drag you with her.

She has a vicious side, it’s true but she turns it into something natural. She’ll tell you to go for it if you want it. That’s her answer to everything.

What does she want? Haha, many things but she settles for whatever you like.

She can piss you of with her presence sometimes, or with exuberant good mood. But her heart is in the right place. She can be a pain in the ass but you’ll get used to it.

She likes to lay and do nothing for a long time and sometimes she finds no peace in anything. She’s moody but everything turns into a good vibe most of the times. Some people try to make her strong and even though she is grateful to those people, she’s not afraid of her soft side. She’ll show you, even if you don’t ask for it. Stubborn as fuck sometimes and she’ll go under your skin to get things done. Sneaky sometimes, but always with good humor.

She’s loyal to people and if you’ve ever been good to her she’ll never turn against you. Even if you hurt her. She’ll defend what she cares about. She’ll always find good in everything. She looks up to some people. Especially people who showed her a different dimension of things. Mentors, stronger personalities or just different characters. She’ll always be fond of these people.

She’s silly sometimes and makes stupid mistakes and even though she’s ashamed to admit them, give her some time. She’ll come back and she’ll joke about them because she doesn’t want to take mistakes seriously.

Always give her time to come to her senses. She can understand everything. She has an excuse for everybody, not only for herself. She walks straight and laughs loud, she exaggerates and she burns but this is who she is. And if you don’t want to change don’t try to change her either.

She’s an asset when she’s motivated and she hates routine. She want to get involved and to have a word to say, but she’ll obey if required. She can be disciplined. She needs to be disciplined sometimes (ambiguous).

She is the life of the party and in the middle of things. It might be tiring sometimes. But sometimes she’s lazy as fuck. She can easily fall into a comfort zone. You need to be somebody very special to get her out of her bed after a long day when all she wants is to rest.

She gets excited easily but she’ll forget about it fast if it’s not something that she really wants. She can put a lot of effort for the greater good but she needs recognition. She has after all an ego and a fetish for herself. Just like everybody else. (Yes she can twist it up just like that).

Everything depends on either she wants it or not. You’ll see the difference in the results. You’ll know when she’s motivated and when she did it because she had to. If she did you wrong she’ll fix it, she’ll try at least. Give her the chance, she never meant it in the first place.

She’ll forgive everything and you’ll hear the weirdest excuses for people who don’t even deserve a glass of water. But she’ll not defend somebody who’s mean on purpose, or at least without a reason.

She’ll fill people’s heads with romance and bullshit and she’s this silly believer that the world is not on the verge of destruction. At least, not while she’s alive.

She came a long way and she has a long way to go. You’re not the only one who thinks there’s a greater purpose for their existence. When she wishes and when she hopes for others she does it with all her heart. If only she could do this for herself.

She’ll give you a fair battle because she knows there are no shortcuts or cheats. Even though patience is not her strongest asset. But at least you can shake hands with her at the end. It was a good game, no doubt about it. It will be remembered. She will be remembered.

Give her the benefit of doubt as she gives it to others. She deserves it.

She will never really give up, so don’t push her to do it. Some people know she’ll never be herself again around them if they pull the wrong string. Not that she’ll not forgive. She will. But it will never be the same again because she can’t pretend.

Give her herself and that’s all you need. Ah! and food.”

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

I’m on a (spring) roll

I would really like to write a book one day. Anyway I romanticize everything. I just want it to be magic and raw just like my favourite, Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Maybe later when this mind of mine will have some coherence. When I’ll come home and put my kids to sleep and have a glass of wine with my husband, write an hour or two and then go to bed.

Maybe later, when I will be mature and my heart will be tamed. Now there are too many impressions, too many flames burning. It’s not wise now. A book needs maturity and patience. I have neither.

I decided to write everyday if I can, just to practice, just to maintain it. Write about everything that comes to mind no matter what it is. Until my writing will become something else. Not just about me, but a smart plot and a logical series of events. Now it’s all chaos. I’m like a kid inside the toy store.

I was always attracted to literature, to writing, to the smell of books. I like classics and that type of classic romance, out of ordinary. I like the chase, the separation and then the glorious final. The fight and the tumult. Emotions and whirlpools. No soap operas for me even though real life tends to be more that way.

And the characters. Classic characters have always such a strong will and determination. They know what they want and they’ll go to hell and back for that. I got this from books, I know what I want and I know how to fight but nowadays nobody gives a damn about these things anymore. Nowadays is about leaving people “on read” and prove who is more superficial. Oh please1

I should have lived in Ana Karenina’s days or the french revolution. Those days of passions and no technology. I am grateful for technology but sometimes it just leaves us empty. Honestly now, we build relationships through Whatsapp when we should be out there face to face doing things that will keep us from being so fucked up. We should be out there being happy walking bare feet on the beach.

I’m talking non-sense right.

Technology is progress, I agree, but we are still humans last time I checked. All we want now is to be freakin cyborgs. Less feelings, more brainwashed. You just can’t find people to be free with. Nowadays everybody talks money and not much else. And shit.

Let’s go eat a burger and laugh at each other. Don’t mention how many calories my burger has or I’ll get up and leave. Can’t stand that in a man.

We are so focused on totally different values nowadays. We care about really silly things and we let principles and values go to hell. We miss big things just to regret it later. Our reasoning nowadays is faulty. We just don’t know how to human properly.

And all this “let’s see who answers slower”, “let’s act like assholes because people like assholes” is boring as fuck. We miss things doing this, we miss the beauty of life, when people could be together and could be doing things together. Oh, people are afraid that people won’t like them is they give in too easily. Well, newsflash, assholes out there, maybe it’s true for a while but in the end they’ll hate your arrogant asses.

See, I start like this, with an idea, I start calmly and then I’m triggered when entering this debate area and I pour letters in here. This just took me 10 min. I started typing so fast. I need to go out also :)))

Anyway, today’s rant ends here.

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

“The General in His Labyrinth”

She’s rubbing cream on her face looking at herself in the mirror. She rubs it gently on her cheekbones, going up to her forehead and down again on her nose, chin, sliding slowly down her neck. She’s tired.

She looks at herself in the mirror and can also see him in bed. Looking at her. Eyes dark, burning. He’s waiting but he’s not impatient. Always a control freak.

She starts rubbing lotion on her body and he watches every move…


He had a party earlier. Friends gathered together. And he was so… different. All night he looked at her, he joked, he had this light in his eyes. That light vanished now that everybody is gone and he is trapped in his own mind again.

It was a perfect night. He wouldn’t do anything without involving her. They laughed a lot. She knows him and he, surprisingly, found out how much she knows of him. She knows who he is, what his actions and reactions are, she knows what he likes, she knows how to make him laugh. He asked her to dance, he’s proud she’s there and they dance and everybody looks. Because everybody feels the goddamn chemistry between them.

She remembers how, while she was seated on the sofa, he was standing next to her talking to a friend and his hand reached out and gently stroked her hair. That moment right there, froze in her mind. He has beautiful hands, manly, with beautiful nails and he always makes sure they look good. She loves this in a man. Nice hands. She always looks at this. And he does have them. She loves his hands.

If she’ll say a joke that’ll crack him up he’ll go round and repeat the joke. He looks happy and carefree. She saw him like this a few times. She saw him free. Then he’ll go back to being lost, to being amnesic… all oblivion now.

He was this free when they first went out to a club. He went to the bar to order drinks and she was on the dance floor waiting for him to come back. She kept on looking at him as he was waiting at the bar. His handsome profile, his suit… he looks damn good in a suit. He finally comes back and she makes a few steps to meet him. They’re face to face, looking at each other. She’s happy as a kid and he feels it. His hand grabs her waist pulling her closer and then they kiss. It’s perfect. Then their foreheads are united and they just savour that moment after kissing. Maybe they’re drunk, but it feels good.

They dance all night and in some moments he just keeps her close, and they kiss and dance like nobody’s around. She looks at him “I don’t know how you can make me feel so good” she says. “Really?!” he says and then he buries his face in her hair kissing her neck and her knees feel weak. She bites her lip and she prays the night will never end.

She remembers all this moments more than anything. These small treasures. But he’s such a strong-headed man. He has the self-control of an army man, the strength of a bull. He’s so damn stubborn. And insecure. All at the same time. He’s cocaine to her brain.

These are just moments, and she wonders if they’re even real now. They felt real though. A simple stroke of hair, a kiss, walking and holding his arm. The moments when they were laughing… just the two of them.

Ashes now… Fiction.


She goes and lays next to him on the bed. Being his prey again…


DISCLAIMER: The title is the name of a book of one of my favourites writers, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It is just a reference and I found it a good match for my text. Nothing to do with the original. Magic realism, has everything to do with me though.

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