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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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!

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!

 

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!

 

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!

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!

Stand up Material

Life is weird, man. First of all we get born… out of a weird place. I mean ok you can’t vomit a baby but there are other ways. Like the delivery bird we are told about when we’re still too young to understand anatomy properly. Oh, you don’t know about it? Is it just us? Oh…

And we’re born so helpless. We need 6 months to start eating food and almost a year to start walking. We’re actually helpless until we reach 16 or 17 years of age. I know older people who are still helpless but anyway.

And then we have no power of choice until we’re major or legal (as if our existence til then is illegal or forbidden), eighteen years old or in some countries twenty one. I mean, the hell with that, you need to chill. In my country they put babies to sleep with vodka, what’s so wrong if they drink at 18. Hahaha I hope you’re laughing. I didn’t mean that. It’s not true. They use drugs. Oh shit, joking again. Too much? Ok, I’ll knock it off.

It’s been a while since I let the clown out.

Then we’re majors and then the real shit begins. Here we are making poor life decisions, not drinking enough water, stressing about making money, not making money, spending money, saving money, anything money.

Then we fall in love, another tragedy. Ok, we fall in love earlier but I don’t consider that true love, that’s just teenage fever. So, we fall in love and there’s more shit to deal with. And then we’re all about he/she loves me, am I attractive enough, should I be an asshole, should I shave my chest, should I skip shaving my legs tonight, am I sagging, is he sagging???, am I fat? please tell me truth! no, don’t tell me the truth, you animal!, I didn’t cum, it was too fast, is he thinking about somebody else, are we making enough money to have a future, money, anything money, love, break-ups, etc.

Break ups yes. We stress about break ups so much, that we become introverts, damaged, assholes, again assholes, more assholes, etc.

Then we struggle with depression, low self esteem, adult acne, ingrown hair… oh shit, is that just me? Anyway, from the small helpless lambs we were, we just left our families to see the world and become some walking trainwrecks.

You live and you become a bag of issues, a walking case study. We evolve. (mocking tone, like when you change your voice to be pompous and with a low bass).

Ok we have nice moments, yey! we enjoy picnics, parties, friends, pets, family reunions, marriage, sex, new family, kids, spending time without kids, travelling, pancakes (mmm I just gave myself a late night craving), new house, new car, getting alive form an accident, you know things like this, closing a credit card, buying a fancy dishwasher. We enjoy them, only to go back to being wrecked, to worry about making money and how many calories are in those damn pancakes!! SO UNFAIR (the pancakes part).

The we, let’s say, settle. We have our family, our kids, our dog that ruins the landscaped garden, we make let’s say enough money but freaking schools are so expensive, we afford to spend quality time and travel from time to time and so on. Let’s say life it’s good and everybody will reach there sooner or later.

But your health is already damaged, you worked like a dog to make money and you neglected a lot of aspects in your life and then Boom one day, Alzheimer’s! Tourrette’s! Or just menopause. You’re old and sometimes so unlucky that you won’t even remember the life you lived.

Ironic. Don’t you think? (Alanis Morisette in the background. I just made you sing that for the next couple of hours).

And then you get older, give all the money you saved for yourself, to your kids and to their kids, and then they put you in an asylum, because you’re a burden and life nowdays is too busy to allow them to take care of you.

You take your sagging self to the asylum and then bye-bye life. Thanks god we don’t get out from the same way we came from. Phew!

But even this is a bit weird. I mean we get burried, burned, embalmed, etc. I mean, why can’t we just evaporate. Less headache for all the people around us, for the environment, etc. Why we have to exit so dramatically from this world that cosnumed us. People crying their eyes off, the coffin is lowered in the ground (or your burned remains are scattered in the wind, depending on how brave you were in your will) and everything is black, together with the priest seeing your way out. I mean it’s a whole plot, a stage, costumes, a theme, etc. We get out of this world in the most dramatic way.

Why can’t we just evaporate. “Ah, you know, we didn’t even see him gone. When we reached it was just a dew on the furniture”. Boom! Simple! Effective! Eco!

I hope somebody makes this a stand-up. Enough with the shenanigans.

It’s all love and clowning around tonight! Peace up! A town!

 

You heard what from who?

Don’t chicken out on anything. If you want to do it, because you want to do it, then do it. God I wish I could explain people that this is my only religion. Freedom of speech, of self, of soul.

I hate it so much when I find myself analyzing what I’m doing just because it doesn’t follow the norm. The hell with your norms, with your life rules and regulations. You live by them, if you think they’re so great! Don’t shove it down people’s throaths. Live by them and let others live by theirs.

Your freedom ends when you interfere with other people’s freedom. Simple as that. But how many nauseating judgemental looks you see nowdays? This is the most disgusting thing to me. Snakes looking. Venom spitting. And you continue doing what you do best, being your own damn glorious self and then they start hissing.

God, it’s Dante’s Inferno. And even family, friends or close people, you know, they’ll start some wierd behaviour when they feel you are too… yourself, or you are doing something they never had the courage to do. It’s like they want to bring you back to an invisible (or too obvious) sheep herd.

I have a very simple solution. Why don’t you guys worry about what’s in your backyards and let me worry about what’s in mine. I don’t know how exactly the saying goes, but i’ll adapt. I can do whatever I like.

And I hear close friends saying “oh you don’t know what people say about you” and my only thought is “Why do they feel comfortable to say it around you” or “why don’t you shut them up if you love me so much” or “why don’t you all go to hell if you want me to put it this way”. Anyway, just a few examples of what’s going through my mind. Why you splash me with words of glorious friendship if you let other people swipe the floor with me.

And then there are those people: “oh, she likes that guy” / “oh she’s loyal to the wrong people” / “oh she’s clubbing too much” / “oh she spends too much” / “oh the dress too short” / “oh she has too much fun” / “oh oh oh”. First of all stop ventilating, fans. Second, why don’t you mind your petty lives. Just for one second stop looking at other people’s lives and focus on your boring ones. I’m living the way I want to, I love who and the way I want to and I am loyal to the people I want to. None of your goddamn business.

Am I writing this because it bothers me? Not because it bothers me, it disgusts me, it’s like when you drink too much and it’s better to vomit. I vomit here whatever you blabbed and turned my stomach upside down.

I hate living with the thought that I am not following I don’t know what human code I’m not aware of. Just avoid me when it comes to life guidelines. I have my own. As long as I am happy I’ll not change them. And stop being accountants or supervisors in people’s lives. We are all different, with different needs and expectations. And mines are just mine.

Anyway, I’ll stop before I become petty. I leave this to others.

I am writing this because it happened recently to have some second thoughts on some things, and it made me realize that some of this bullshit actually reached to me and it made my heart and my mind wonder. It made me feel that I have to consider if what I do will cause gossip or not. And that is sad because it didn’t bother me that much before.

But again, my choices are my choices and even though I like my stuff private, some people made it a very open subject and now there’s an elephant in the room. Motherefffffer!

Anyway now that I feel better, thank you all looking for some excitement here, for being so curious about my whereabouts and roundabouts and mind your own damn business, please. But by any means, pass by, and bring some traffic to my page.

I don’t bother with these hoes, don’t let these hoes bother me!

P.S. articolul asta vizeaza strictnisteoamenicucarelucrez, dar ei nu stiu asta si sper sa nu se apuce sa traduca.

It’s always love and late night writing shenanigans!

Some Christmas melancholy

I wake up and the snow reaches the window sill. All is white around the house… everywhere. I look outside and all I want is to go and play in the snow. The house is so warm. There is some food cooking in the stove. Smells so good. I must have breakfast before I go out and play.

See, there’s a tradition in our house. We all eat together. Nobody starts until we are all seated. I know, sounds uncanny. But it’s actually beautiful, it’s so personal. We are too busy nowdays. Everybody on its own.

I have my breakfast and I put on my jacket, my scarf, my woolen hat, my stockings and a pair of woolen pants. Ah and boots. Waterproof boots. I can barely move now and you can only see my eyes and nose. I can see myself so clearly now and it’s so funny. These memories are so precious.

And… I’m out in this snow paradise. You can’t see anything but snow. It covered everything over night. You can see here and there cat traces and their paws leaving prints in the snow. I bet it wasn’t something they want. Chicken are also inside, they didn’t go out yet. It’s not cold. Yet… Some nights will be so cold that everything will freeze and you’ll wake up to mirror like ice everywhere.

I room around, playing, imagining adventures and quests. It’s beautiful, it’s what every child is waiting for in the winter.

After a few days Christmas will be here. Oh, the Christmas tree, mom is coming, my uncle is coming, presents, cookies, that divine smell of Christmas specialities. I can’t wait. We usually buy a green tree and I decorate it. We add the lights and cotton at the end and boom! Christmas is here! Right here on the hallway of our house. Santa can come now. It’s freezing but I can’t take my eyes of the Christmas tree.

My mom is here. She and grandma are starting to prepare the food. My uncle will join later on and we’ll fight in the snow. More likely he’ll throw me in the snow. It’s always so good to have them all at home. My happiness has no limits. I remember waiting for them and listening to them so attentive when we are all at the table. Mmm… I smell something sweet. See, my grandma rarely bakes sweets, except pies and now it’s the time to have these awesome Christmas cookies.

Maybe that’s why Christmas was so special. We were keeping its traditions untouched and its charm, its uniqueness. We have dishes that we only eat on christmas. Of course, more than that, the entire family comes together.

I’ll spend Christmas Eve with my brother and we’ll go from house to house singing and people will give us sweets, nuts or fruits. Traditions that may seem ridiculous now but were so joyfull back then. The best part was that we get to watch movies till late and spend time together until 4 or 5 am when our grandparents will get us ready to go out and sing. We will snow fight of course, we will meet other children and we’ll come home with our bags full of goodies. Oh man the joy of those moments.

I used to be so naughty and search for the presents before Christmas. Most of the times I was lucky and found them and I had to act surprised on Christmas morning. Until they learned my ways and mom and grandma started to step up their game of hiding the presents.

We used to be so stuffed on Christmas day. Delicious food. And then we’ll just sit around the TV and watch Christmas movies. Real Christmas. Entire house smelled like Christmas, that smell that will never leave you.

I don’t know how many kids nowdays get to feel this Christmas spirit. Maybe back then I didn’t realize how much it meant, but I definitely do now, when my Christmas is so much different.

But I believe one thing. It’s about the spirit, it’s about being together. That’s the most important. Maybe I don’t bother that much but one day my family will see how I like to celebrate Christmas.

I just wrote this so fast with so many vivid memories passing through my mind.

Merry Christmas Everyone! Let it be love and peace!

It’s all love and Christmas shenanigans. Peace!

Come to the dark side

We all have our perverted side…

It’s hard to write these days. I can’t focus and I lack excitement, not only for writing but in general. I can’t find anything to entertain me these days.

But you know, we have to keep the vibe, we have to keep on shining because this is how we reach at the end of each day. And, most important, we have to keep it behind closed doors, when there’s nothing and nobody around. Don’t throw that good vibe when you reach home, like an old jacket. If you were in a good mood, maintain it. Be self-sufficient. Don’t depend on external sources, just let the spring within flow. Create a placebo out of your happiness and vibes. Cure yourself.

As I said in the beginning, we all have our dark, perverted side. I was reading about a bulgarian monk, I think, Bogumil, that believed humans were given their soul by God and the body by the Devil, and so, created a continuous battle within.

Our bodies crave and lust while our souls still sparkle innocence. Nobody is completely bad, as we are born with the complete understanding of these two notions: Good and Bad. It’s the alpha and omega seed rooting deep within our souls for as long as universe. We know the difference between these two let’s not dive into philosophy.

And yeah, it feels damn nice sometimes to sin. Mmmm this bitter sweet, adrenalin flavoured smoothie. We do it on purpose, yes, don’t call for circumstances. But as I always say, you have to “Own that shit!”.

You made a mistake? Worry not my earthling. Own it! Take responsibility of what you did and don’t freaking hide behind your gloryhole making excuses. Yeah I said gloryhole. We all have one, because life doesn’t really care who’s behind when in the mood to release. Own that shit! Take it like a mothafoockin pro! There’s a lot more to come and that’s your job behind the wall.

Anyway, the more you run from your mistakes, the more they’ll haunt you! Bohooo you’ll hear in your head and heart like the saddest echo ever. And regret, ah man! Regret is the saddest thing that could happen to a human being, followed closely by self-pity. Snap out if it, it’s unhealthy, it’s distructive! You know how much time I spent with these two in my teenagehood? How much of a wreck have I become in time, loathing in smallness? And you know why? Because I always blamed others for my own mistakes. And sometimes I still do it, only to realize that I’m ashamed of myself after, and I need to fix it.

I became a wall in time. My paint still standing, my structure still strong. Steel skeleton. I can take a lot.

I’m deviating. I was talking about the dark side. Again, you have to admit that you have one. The easiest way to heal is to admit that you have the disease, or whatever the hell was the saying. Anyway don’t come to me saying you’re all saint. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Don’t pretend you don’t know your weaknesses or hidden intentions. Don’t pretend your sins are smaller than others’.

A real person will know who you are behind all your flaws. We should stop building this picture perfect selves and start being human. We live in the era of the greatest pretending of all times. We have this technology that allows us to fake every fookin thing mate! (yeah I like McGregor). We are fake and when we meet face to face our true colours show. Boom! we are not at all peachy and fuzzy, we are walking experiments of fuckery, and yet we are the greatest of all species.

Why would you like to be somebody else, pleasing people that you don’t like. Why would you be a fake ass in a world that’s already superficial as hell. And I’m not sure hell it’s superficial. It might be the realest thing ever happening to some of us and the loudest and latest wake up call for our fake asses.

” Here, let me bake ya fake arsholes, ya ungrateful c##ts.”

We all are at some point. Mean and sad little people snapping out of nowhere, spitting venom without any damn reason. We are all low at some point, but we have to stand up gracefully. Own it! How many times did I say this?!? Sorry my syndromes are kicking in.

I am raw lately and you know why, because I was hiding for so long in my shell and the worst part is that I was trying to please all the wrong people.

You know, nowdays, if I do something for you, I don’t expect anything in return. Yeah, if I am nice to any of you crossing my path daily, just know I’m nice because I want too. I am not making exceptions for anybody anymore. And if I give any of you more than the norm of chances, don’t think you’re special or that I’m stupid. It’s just me, this is how my heart and my brain work. Whatever I give is genuine, least food. I like food and I will not share :))))

My point is that sometimes I look at people and inside my head my little dwarfs inceasingly working, stop, take a break, have a Kit Kat, and think to themselves “Man, this is a fuckin potato pretending to be a kiwi!”. This is the extent some people reach, without knowing that when you’re hungry a potato is so much more fulfiling. I am looking for potatoes, for those people I really need in my life, for those people who’ll satisfy my french fries cravings. A potato is wonderful. Fattening, but again, freakin’ wonderful. Because, giving credit to some quotes, “Everything we like is fattening, illegal or doesn’t text back”.

Man I could blab tonight, and you know how I do it? I just build this amphitheatre in my head where I place all of you, and I just start speaking loud and clear. My “favourites” get the front row. And I’m a fun host, you have to admit it.

Should I quote tonight? I already did but I want something deeper.

My dark side, my shadow, my lower companion is now in the back room blowing up balloons for kids’ parties. Gary Busey

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