Happiness

Cookie: Why does she look so beautiful today? She makes me stare at her.

Fritz: Because today she’s happy. And when she’s happy, everybody can see it.

Cookie: Why can’t she be happy all the time, then?

Fritz (whispering almost to himself): Because she is human…


I’m going through my drafts again and this is the pilot episode of a short series I wanted to write about my cats. My two boys, Cookie and Fritz in their own world, talking about me obviously… Seems fun… cat wisdom.

Cookie got his name after the great Cookie Lyon in Empire and we also thought he was a girl when me and my flatmates first got him. I said he’s a boy but I gave up when my flatmates said he’s not. Not long after he grew the cojones.

Fritz is named afte Fitz in Scandal, the president of the US. I just felt he’s a bit german and I added an “r”. Makes a stronger impact.

One of them is a blessing in the shape of a cat, the other one is the Antichrist. I love them both to death for being so different. Call me cat lady as much as you want but they fill in my days with joy and mostly anger.

Maybe more episodes will pop soon.

It’s all love and cat shenanigans. Peace!

Wait for it

I just look at myself sometimes and I want to slap my face and scream from the bottom of my lungs “WHAT DO YOU WAAAAANT”.

Nothing makes you happy. Nothing. When it’s like this, you want it like that. When it’s like that you want it like this. You get what you want and then you don’t want it anymore. You have issues! Big ones!!! How can you ever be happy like this?

And stop thinking. Stop f#cking thinking because it will be the end of you. Why can’t you be normal? Why can’t you stop seeking fantasies and be goddamn normal?

And then I’m like “Nah! Just do your thing gurl! Be a freaking unicorn if you have to!”

End of the story. Good night!

It’s all love and experimental shenanigans. 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!

 

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!

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!

 

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!

Greek summer nights

I remembered this time of the year, 2011. I came back from England in April, for Easter. I was working there as a babysitter for a Lebanese family. At the end of my Easter holiday the family decided that my help isn’t needed anymore. So, there I was, unemployed in May. On my birthday I didn’t see anybody. Kept my phone closed. Everybody knew I was supposed to go back.

I learned the bad news and I told my brother about it. Actually, it’s improper said. He felt it. He asked me what’s wrong. I told him I won’t be going back to England. He told me to go have a barbeque with friends, anyway, it was already scheduled, and then we will sort it out. See, this is the thing about my brother. He feels when I’m going through something. And he helps by acting normal. This is his super-power. He lifts people up.

After the sad news I decided I won’t tell my family. I’m talking about my grandfather, who raised me. So I decide to stay out of reach in my mom’s apartment. She was in Spain anyway. So I hid there for almost a month without anybody knowing what I’m doing. Depressed and lonely. 24 years of age and I don’t know what’s going on with my life. No income, no support. Till one day when somebody saw me going to the supermarket and told my grandfather about it. Then I had to come clean.

I tried to find a job in Romania but everything was shit man. Salary will not cover rent and monthly expenses. So I found a job in Greece. I applied. They took me. Here I am, mid-july on the bus to Athens. Took the ferry to Crete. I was on the ferry looking at the stars and imagining a fairytale. Clear moon on the mediteranean sky. 8 hours with the ferry and I reached the port. Heraklion if I’m not wrong. From there I had instructions on how to reach the resort. I was supposed to be a waitress in a big resort in Crete Island.

I reached the port and looked for a bus. My last money went on the bus ticket. And guess what? The bus took me to the wrong place, even though I had a long conversation with the driver about my destination. It took me to the wrong place and, given the fact that I was in a completely different country, I decided to go back to where I arrived and take another bus, that will hopefully take me to my destination. Good plan, but, as I said, I spent al my money on the previous ticket. So here I am, where I started, but with no means of going further. You know what I did? I saw a bar, I went in and I invented a story on how I lost my money and I need somebody to help me find my way to the resort.

I still see the image in front of my eyes. I am at the bar chatting with a young bartender and she keeps on asking me how I lost my money. Between us is a jar on which is written “tips”. I glance at it while I’m talking to her and I feel she doesn’t believe me. Probably she thought I need money for drugs or something. Tears dance in my eyes, and she feels it. She opens the “tips” jar and gives me the money for my trip. You don’t know gratitude the way I know it. You don’t know how my heart exploded in that moment. Strangers. Strangers will sometimes do more than somebody you know for a lifetime.

I went on the bus again and this time I reached my destination. 5 pm in the afternoon. I was supposed to be there at 2pm. I tell reception why I’m there and they call the manager. A Spanish guy. Ricardo if my memory helps me. He takes me in his office and asks me about my trip. I tell him the reason I was late. He’s very calm and gentle. God bless him. He tells me about the schedule and all work related details. He tells me that my uniform is ready and that there’s a shuttle that will drop me to my accommodation, in a village nearby.

I thank him and I’m happy I made it. I’m ready to go. He stops me. He asks me if I’m hungry, if I have money for food. I am embarrassed, but yet I admit. My voice strangled. He looks at me, he opens a drawer, he takes 500 euros and gives it to me. I am reluctant. He tells me to take it for now and it will be deducted from my first salary. I told you, you don’t know gratitude the way I know it. You don’t appreciate people the way I do.

We shake hands and he sends me away with the driver to my accommodation. I have no words to thank him. The ride to the accommodation it’s a local tourist train. Like the toy ones. The sea on one side, mountain on the other. Beautiful Crete. We reach to the accommodation. A 2 or 3 storey building. I am on the ground floor with one of the chefs, Polina, a Greek girl. She was never home as I, later, found out.

I didn’t realize it at the moment, but, when you go out of the building, the sea it’s a few meters away. There’s a secluded little beach with rough sand. Old people go there. There’s fish in the water. The small ones, the type that eats your dead skin. The elders are in the water letting the fish do their job. Over a pile of rocks, on the left it’s a proper beach, with long chairs and umbrellas. A few pubs and music in the distance. But I prefer the secluded one. Also to the left, uphill, there’s a small church, where later on I went and cried my sorrows away.

Beautiful church, with glasses full of colours. I went there to pray, to think, to cry. To cry my loneliness away. I still remember those day. They’ll never leave me.

I started work. I was a waitress in the lobby bar. And, man, how many glasses I broke. We had the coolest manager. After duty he will give us shots of tequila and then he’ll take us to the city to dance. I made friends. People that I still remember, that sometimes I talk to. I advanced from the lobby bar to the mexican restaurant with Argiro. I don’t know how to write her name now, but she was like a mother to me. From there I went up even more and I reached the VIP restaurant. Because this is what I do, I get better. Except when I don’t fully understand what my job is. But when I know what I’m supposed to do, I’m the best.

In the VIP restaurant I met the funniest and the kindest chef. Manthos. He made my life easier only with his presence and his words. We talk from time to time. Manthos if you read this, you should know how grateful I am to meet you in this lifetime. You are one of the good ones.

Dimitri, the hotel chef, you should also know that I respect you so much. You’re the coolest. A team I will never forget.

Then the season ended. Rain started. I was one of the last to leave. Only a few guests in the hotel. They’ll close for the winter. But that summer was one of the best in my life. I can never forget the rides I was taking with the toy train to work. Sea on one side, mountain on the other. Shepherds and sheeps. Dogs guarding them. Exploring when I had some free time. Mesmerizing green and blue sea. Skinny dipping at night. Beach parties. Bike rides. Sangria, home made, on the balcony. You can never know the happiness I lived that summer.

You don’t know gratitude the way I know it.

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

 

Mom, I’m fine

Now that I have your attention:

First of all, I want to share with you some good news – I bought my own domain recently so now I’m inthenightair.com. I don’t know if you care, but I do! Getting serious about all this writing thing… I think. You’ll never know with me. When I start to like something I immediately start to have an aversion to it. Yeah makes no sense. Let’s move on.

Second of all, something funny happened today. My mom asked me if I’m fine because she saw a post on the blog and she thought I sound disappointed and sad.

No mom, I’m not disappointed nor sad, I just write, and even though I have a tendency to write a lot about feelings it’s not always something i’m feeling at that moment. Sometimes I keep a subject in my head for weeks. Sometimes I even write it down so I won’t forget it.

Of course those subjects are also inspired by reality because most of the time I’m subjective in my posts, but it doesn’t mean that what I write is happening at that exact time.
Most of the times I’m euphoric and sometimes, just sometimes, angry, when I write. Ok I’m also disappointed and sad sometimes. But JUST sometimes.

I can’t always write about funny stuff, even though I like to do that too. My mom said she’ll love to read funny posts all the time. Haha relax mom I’m not that upset and I promise I’ll write about fun stuff soon. I actually have something on the pipeline.

What can I do, my mom has access to the internet… Together with other members of my family who are probably thinking I’m a wreck.

Nah. I’m good. I just like romantic shit and I like to disect feelings. The real deal is never published. Some people know I keep the realest posts hidden.

Too much subjectivity might hurt sometimes. I also mix some fiction in my posts strictly for embelishment purposes, but not too much. Sometimes it’s my imagination or my hidden desires. Man, i’m experimenting. Whatever you read it’s a test until I find my way and I polish my talent. I think you’ll all know the difference then.

From time to time I write about feelings or memories long gone, just because they pop somewhere in the back of my head like popcorn. I’m very disorganized I know, and no, I’m not putting real effort to change it. Simple. Let it flow as it is. Might be messy in the beginning but then it becomes a lot better.

I also noticed that all these touching posts bring a lot of reaction. People start reacting on the blog from the first minutes. I can see I’m touching the sensitive chords of my audience.

If you ask me, I love to write about feelings. I find it beautiful. I find it rich in everything. Aesthetically you have so much space to develop the writing, the language, the effects. It’s truly creative.

And I do think that we all have a sensitive side and deep inside we like to read emotional texts. I have to admit I used a few texts to manipulate and mislead but only I know where and when and who. Ok and a few other people. Hahah, yeah I get caught sometimes.

So, see. Mystery solved. I’m not at the end of my despair. I’m just feeding my blog. Got it mom?

How cool is she! Love you mom!

On a serious note yeah I find various subjects in day to day life. And that’s about it. My true writings are on a different blog. Hahaha no. I barely maintain this one. I could never keep two. Seriously. No. Seriously.

It’s all love and petrol station (again) writing shenanigans. Peace!

In the night air

I am not a morning person! No… let me stress that out…

I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON!!

Sweet God in Heaven I am not a morning person. All saints and angels and even the arch-angels know that.

And it affects me… and not only me… my ability to work, perform, talk, concentrate and socialize. There is a thin line to murder. I spit fire and I am cruel. Just like an ancient dragon awaken from the depths of hell I snore flames and gargle lava. Yeah is that bad.

It’s been a year and 2 months since I have to comply to a morning job. And it changed me. My patience is at its lowest as well as my social skills. I am a wreck and a mere shadow of what I am in the evening. Yeah, of what I am in the evening. There is a power in the afternoon. Is the time when I really become alive. The last few hours of work are my passage to being me. The fun, relaxed and crazy girl. I know the people I work with will strongly disagree.

First of all, the moment when my alarm clock starts the march, I feel that someone ran me over and then reversed. I immediately search the snooze button and bring an end to this infamous noise. I have 3 alarms. All of them see their way through snoozes.

I immediately fall back asleep and it feels like I’m in Olympus sleeping of the breast of Zeus himself. Then Zeus throws thunders after me and Olympus falls at the sound of my lovely alarm clock. Again I reach heroically to the snooze button and I teleport myself to rivers of ambrosia. I will trade my mom for one more hour of sleep (sorry mom, just a metaphor). Finally when is already late, I move my, not so godlike, ass to the bathroom and I just look at the creature in the mirror and want to petrify it on the spot.

Why didn’t I move 10 minutes earlier? Why, in the name of that “being late” deduction I take every month, I don’t make this effort? How can it be soooo hard to lift my corpse out of the bed?

And then there’s another thing. Next to me is sleeping a snoring beast. Arms wide open, taking over the bed and soundly dreaming and enjoying the wonderful world of Hypnos. And I want to curl next to him and stay there without thinking about what I need to wear or if I will be in time, or if I will go to jail for homicide.

Thanks God I don’t need to much time to prepare myself. Quick shower, an unfortunate choice of clothes (started to buy more dresses lately, less headache) and off the door I go.

Traffic is as depressing as I am and I just embellish my cursing vocabulary each day. And when I finally reach work I only pray (after so many blasphemies) that I am still in the grace period. If I am, then there’s less snakes on Medusa’s head. There are days when I am 1 damn freaking minute late, which means of course deduction from my not so cheerful salary (boss read this part here, only this) and then my day becomes a series of misfortunate events.

Coffee helps, but coffee doesn’t reimburse. But then what can I do, is my fault. Stop complaining, back to work. There are a few people at work to whom I’ve showed the God of War himself. Yes he is my alter ego and I quite fancy him.

An what I don’t get at all is what’s with all the morning people commenting on the afternoon people mood. You’re a morning person, I’m not. End of conversation, you don’t have to challenge my nerves (this goes out to my brother, a former afternooner).

My mom also is a morning person and she is being punished for that. Ahahahah I went to far… (echo) she went to far…

And now it comes the magic part: the afternoon. Oh the peace of the whole universe is restored. Birds are singing, children are smiling, pink is my new favorite color and I’m young again. The snakes on my head turned into marshmallows.

The afternoon brings back my creativity, my patience, my social skills, my worn/torn up nerves. I feel like living. I feel like going here and there, and see friends, and go out, have a drink. Then I want to compose, to invent, to discover new chemical reactions, to design gowns, to release a new song, to write a book and to challenge Jamie Oliver to a cooking competition. Oh my Mom what I DON’T feel like doing.

Usually in the evening/night I work out, clean, cook, read, learn, practice. Can’t do these things during the day. You won’t believe the time I start doing all of these.

Even in the weekend I wake up late and it takes me 2 more hours (if there aren’t any plans made) to actually wake up. I just enjoy a tea and a movie or just a lazy couch sitting. After that I gradually pump blood into my veins.

The last thing I want to do at night is… SLEEP. Thing that I deeply regret in the morning…

Where are my night owls? Come and help…

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