Lonely are those with no memories

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all love and writing shenanigans. Peace!

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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!

Guess who’s back

I don’t do much lately. I barely write, even though I put together a collection of 50 poems that I like to call “my first book”. I am waiting to find that desire to publish it. It’s mediocre but in the same time, not that bad.

But it’s latent lately (see what I did here). I just don’t find that joy in the things I once liked. I just go home, eat, scroll through my phone or watch movies and then fall asleep. Earlier, day by day.

I got too comfortable living alone. So comfortable that I don’t really care anymore. And I can’t stop thinking, more and more, that I will never be able to accept somebody in my space. I see it as such a big intrusion.

I tried, you know. I tried to understand also. Some people are probably not meant to be with somebody, and it’s nothing wrong with that, despite what society or family thinks. I’ll not be with somebody just to be with somebody and be utterly unhappy. But it’s painful to see how every person you ever loved didn’t reciprocate and you can’t help but sit and wonder “then who?”.

And it’s not even about loneliness anymore, you actually start wondering if there’s a curse of some sorts hovering over you head.

It’s like all the bad luck of all the previous generations and the sins that they carried, ghosting on you.

Of course you have hope, aren’t we all hoping for something in this life?

When I was 18 I was saying loud and clear that I’ll be married by 26 and have 2 kids, because I want to be a young mother so I can play with my children. Because my mom is young and it’s easy to talk to her.

Here I am 6 years past my deadline. Times have changed, they say.

But sometimes I wish they didn’t. Because we kind of lost the sense of family nowadays. We are so busy being independent that we are so terminally lonely. We just use each other like disposable gloves.

And God forbids we admit we have feelings. That’s out of question. You have feelings, get ready to be taken advantage of.

I am jealous of those who actually managed to find a partner a decade back. They have different kind of memories and hell of a better music. They were still not devoured by social media and technology and they still went for a walk in the park.

Fuck me sideways, I wish it was different.

I’m not saying I wasn’t happy. Oh man, I’ve been so so happy in some of the days of my life. And I’ve had it all at some point. I was loved, I loved back and it was enough, bla bla. Of course shit happens. You look back and, of course, you’ll say that “yeah, that’s how it was meant to be”, because this is what we all say after all. We all suddenly believe in a greater power that has all of us hanging like puppets. Yeah it’s convenient to say that.

What if we fucked up? What if we should’ve, could’ve tried more and better? But no, out of pride, in one instant we are willing to lose it all. Because pride usually feeds us and makes us sleep better at night, isn’t it? Bullshit, man. We are just flawed. There’s a fuckin glitch in the fuckin matrix and I’m sorry for saying fuckin so fuckin much, but I just love it.

I’m not trying to blame ourselves for everything, but I’m just saying that we also changed. And it’s not just that, we let other factors change us because we don’t take change too well. Usually progress should touch us in a positive way, and yet we ruin everything we are given. Just think about it.

And then there’s THAT hope.

You hope that your turn didn’t come and you still have a chance at happiness. At some point you even start saying “But X was in her/ his mid thirties when she / he met the love of her / his life” and so we let ourselves drift in this lazy river of hopes thinking we’ll bump into the love of our life at the right time. I don’t even get out of the house man, I keep on hoping somebody will notice me while I go to the supermarket looking like a bum. I don’t even ride the metro. I’m not even able to carry a conversation without being super awkward. I’m not even myself anymore.

And I’m not even exaggerating, this is the state I’m in right now because I don’t believe in anything anymore and I don’t believe in that special someone who will make me want to move in with them. I mean, good luck with that. I find moving in with somebody, to be one of the hardest things ever.

Probably my brother will roll his eyes to the back of his neck and say between his teeth “you’re just like mom” but so be it bro. Come at me bro!

I know he’s reading my crap. Love you bro!

And now imagine I find the love of my life tomorrow and we spend the rest of our lives together and I need to go back and embarrassingly delete this post.

Eh, fingers crossed!

*

I enjoyed writing this, it’s been such a long time. Sometimes you just need a little push.

And please always keep in mind that the present situation is always a variable and it can change any minute, any second, so if I write some tings, sometimes, it doesn’t mean that I’m going crazy or anything. I just have my moments and I always share them as they are. I can’t write fiction, sorry.

It’s all love and evening 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!

Ze guts

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

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

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

Where are my balls man?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fatalistic or not…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I still hope..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Icarus, but with reason

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all love and writing shenanigans. Peace!

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!

 

Change background

I just looked at my coffee and I realized I like colour black and especially dark colours. Not in something specific, but in general. This blog changed to black.

I realized that when I didn’t get enough sleep my brain is bombarding me with thoughts of various kinds. The statement above is one of them. They just come and go with the speed of light not allowing me to focus. Instead of “focus” I just wrote “fall asleep”. Probably this is what I need right now.

I am also very irascible when I’m tired but on a different not I tend to be more productive when I’m in this state. When I’m well rested I tend to take everything too lightly, too superficial, I feel that I have time for everything, I procrastinate and then I realized that the only thing I did was to waste an entire day.

I read this morning because I couldn’t sleep and even though reading helps me sleep, whenever I closed my eyes, my brain got triggered. It’s like it doesn’t want me to sleep. So many thoughts tangled in my lobes that I just had to open my eyes and get some distraction.

I don’t know if I’m haunting myself or my hidden unconscious emotions start a battle of wits in my head. It’s not an easy to handle situation.

This led me to an idea that was persistent since morning.

See, when people come from a normal background…. Ok now I’ll tell you what a normal background means to me: A family with both parents, decent lifestyle, functional household, education and affection, healthy relation with the family (not exceptional, just normal), living your childhood as a child, your teenagehood as a teenager, not too spoiled but growing in a caring environment, etc. Of course it can be perfect, but I thought about that too. There’ll be fights but not important. They’ll be about some grades in school or your brother/sister who got themselves in trouble, maybe some conjugal misunderstanding that your parents will hide from you anyway. Small tension but nothing unusual. Something that won’t leave a print on your emotions forever. Children are very susceptible to everything.

Even half of the above mentioned will count as a healthy development for a decent human.

Ok so, when people come from a normal background tend to be more peaceful, stable and kind. I saw it in the people I met a long time. I am not saying they are privileged, I am saying they have a strong foundation to they personality, where they have everything sorted after a great example received during early age. They are more confident because they were allowed to develop their traits without major changes or impacts in their life. Their character is stronger because it was not weakened by other circumstances. I don’t know if this is true completely, it’s something I just noticed in people with similar backgrounds. They just seem more normal and they are usually good people who you can count on on a very profound level. Unanimously labeled as such, they will less likely to become the opposite in time.

I was specifically mentioning early ages because the foundation is where everybody starts from, therefore is the most important. This prepares you for your life, later. You will likely be able to solve your problems in a more rational way, with more strength and determination. Even your commitment will look different given the fact that you were given positive examples when young.

Of course you’ll develop anguishes, prejudices, complexes, even depression episodes (it can affect everybody) etc but the way you handle them is different than a person with an abnormal background.

Now my version of an abnormal background: most likely divorced or single parent, troubled household, fights / sometimes violence, traumas, insufficiency (mostly material),  blame and induced guilt, living ahead of your aged, being troubled with other dilemmas than the “normal” ones, felling a high level of responsibility for others.

Note that I did not include education here because even if most of the above cases will lack the education part there are also very well-educated individuals that can fit in this category. Which sometimes can lead to serious cases of depression. The more you know the more you want to know, the more you dig into the depths of your traumas and brain dissections.

So, these individuals are the uneasy ones, the ones with lots of insecurities even though sometimes they act like thugs. This is their way of getting things done. Usually they develop all sorts of psychological traps. They can control their emotions but they’re usually very sensitive because it was imprinted within their emotions since childhood. The guilt is more frequent. Guilt not conscience. It’s easier for them to want to be lonely because they can’t make mistakes. They socially interact but they’re spilt inside. They follow social norms and standards. Most likely they teach themselves how to normally behave than being raised like that. They always want to please, they want to do their best because they were blamed that everything went wrong because of them. They feel that they don’t belong, most of the times and it’s very hard to please them or tame them. It’s double the job to deal with them.

A lot of them become successful but a lot of them became the… villain. Studies showed that penitentiaries are usually full with a high number people from the second category. Leave aside the natural-born killers and psychopaths. This is not an excuse, but on a psychological level it makes a difference. troubled people, unable to socially fit or feeling rejected can become predators.

I’m not saying they can’t surpass this, but it’s a lot of work. Constant, monumental. Your self-control level has to be steel. You need to analyze every step of your thinking and acting process, and sometimes despite your efforts you fail the scope.

Some might say, let people be what they are. But tell me who wants to be troubled and restless. This is not society’s voice integrally, it’s the voice from within that want to better you. This is how you become better, with self-will. You have to keep maximum security surveillance in your headquarters. And you’ll not succeed from the first attempts, you’ll fail so many times, you’ll snap, you will blow your cover and every restart will be more difficult and you’ll want to stop and say “fuck it” but that inner voice tells you that you’re in charge and you’re the only one that can understand and act accordingly. And so, you are one more step closer to your personal success. Maybe right after a big breakdown.

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

P.S. I need spellcheck, i messed this post up. Maybe i’ll nap a little bit. I can’t even read what I wrote now. Oh, good Lord, be praised for giving us THE COFFEE!