Chidi-ching-ching

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

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

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

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

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

Moving on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Going back Gabi, you can do it. Focus!

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

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

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

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

It’s all love and evening shenanigans. Peace!

Advertisements

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!

The urge of finding out

God sometimes I’m so awkward. I just say the most weird things when it’s really not the case. God! And the problem is I really don’t mean them. I don’t meant to make them sound as they do. They just come out of my mouth. Is anybody else having the same problem?

Really, it’s frustrating. I’m not a person who loves double meaning and stuff. I like things straight. And they always come out twisted. Christ! I’m the master of disaster!

I really don’t mean it, and here I am being all awkward. With the wrong people. I want to give myself an award for being such a weirdo. I’m just a real calamity.

I should shut up. I don’t even know why I start some conversations. I should just be quiet. But it’s just that part of me that wants to see where I stand. I guess I get my answers sometimes. It’s not always what I want or when I want. I should get used to this. I can’t always get what I want.

Most of the times I do. That’s where the confusion is. I always get what I want and it becomes a habit. No Gaby, things are not always the way you picture them. And sometimes you’re just bored. This is what kills me. Boredom. But it’s natural. It happens to everyone. Is not always thrilling and adventurous as we picture it to be. Sometimes we just have to be happy with what we have.

But I always want what I can’t have. Speak about the drama. I am such a spoiled brat. I am used to have all these exciting things happening and I forget that sometimes are not even right. Or moral… Call it as you want. I just love the unusual. I just love the fear and the adventure. It has to give me that adrenaline dose that I love so much. It has to be forbidden. That’s why I’m not settled, because I love the unknown too much. Or the most familiar. It will take a good shrink to decipher all this.

And it’s fun you know. But it’s such a contradiction because I never know where I stand. Do I want to know where I stand. I’m bored. I want some fun. It’s been a while since I felt the thrill of it. I’m such a stubborn person. So easily offended when I don’t get what I want. What do I want though?

I’m not easy to please because I don’t want to. I have layers and layers that I shed at all times. And I love it like this. You’ll never know what pleases me now and what pleases me after a moment. But there’s one thing I know. I want it only my way. And my way is not boring at all. You should just let me have it. Give me that space that makes me comfortable. And then magic will happen. If you shut me down I’ll never react. I just need to feel secure. And then there’s magic.

And to be clear my intentions are never bad. You can rest assured that I don’t want, I never wanted and I will never want to cause harm. I’m just perverted and my aims are not to destroy. I aim to please. It’s all carnal. It’s all about the sense. All the senses. But I know there have to be limits because what I can unleash is not easy to handle.

And people are always afraid. Especially when they act like they don’t.

And in the same time I love stability. Now you tell me how everything I just said before can match this statement. Where’s the middle way here?

I have no clue. It’s like I want to have that Bonnie and Clyde kind of thing but… legal. Too much Freud inside my head. How can I ever find peace? Because in 31 years I never found it. I’m a vampire searching for the elixir that gives the power of walking in daylight. I’m searching for a myth.

But I guess I’ll make do with the first part until I find the latter. I’m just fine with trying. I just wish I wasn’t misunderstood. Damn I wish I could be clearer and things will just fall into place. But then that’s the beauty of it… not getting what you want… when you want.

This being told, I guess I’m just going to be my awkward self until that day comes and somebody will see it as a treasure. Because I am one.

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!

 

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!

Her chamber is locked

She looks at him with warmth

He’s so lost in what has been, in all those “what ifs”

He doesn’t seem to be very awake even though is clear daylight

His mind wonders but the touch of her hand awakens him

“Can this be true” he whispers to himself terrified

“Where is she?” He asks her in disbelief

“She’s there” she says, calmly pointing to his chest

And then her being covers his eyes

His mouth is full of her faith

His hands are digging her flesh

“Go away you sorcerer of grief” he nearly screams…


Wrote this in 5 minutes. It’s what may seem a sequel of “The right ventricle”. Somebody told me it should continue… I tried. This is what came up in a very brief and undisciplined attempt…

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

The right ventricle

I tangled my fingers into his god-like beard

I followed the traces of his jaw bone, down his neck

That led me all the way to those two chambers of his heart

One for me and one for what was left of the other one.

I fortified my walls inside his beating hub

But at night I hear her knocking lonely from the other side

“I don’t want to die” she whispers…

“I’m not here to kill you” I add in the pulsing darkness.

*

*

Draft that I never convinced myself to publish. Some drafts just get all dusty in here. Some of them might never see the light.

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

The way I like people

Nowadays people think you like them for a reason. That you hide something. We are after all perverted and doubt comes natural. Because we lie everyday about who we are and who we want to be.

But there’s a different kind of feeling, there’s a different kind of approach… the original one, the one we lost.

The pure one, without intention, without purpose.

It’s about people, man. We interact so much during a simple day and it’s the people we have around who can change our spirit. If we are surrounded by the right ones then we are lifted. And I want to talk about these people. And how I see them.

If I know something about me, is that I am a people’s person. If you ask me what I have most valuable I will give you a list of people. Not one name, a list. I love people and rarely it’s me chasing them out of my life. My heart is not perverted yet, and it’s still naive. I admit. You may think that I get hurt, I will say that I learn.

But I always win. Whatever comes from the heart is always above. If other people take advantage, I let them. It’s ok if they think they can trick people and then brag about it. One day they realize and they will realize what they lost. Story of my life. This is how I know I’m not losing. And I never take revenge. Somebody else is in charge of punishing.

I’m not saying I’m an angel. Not at all. But I preserved my heart. This is what matters for me. And it never failed me. And everybody knows that I don’t play games, and I don’t like to hurt people. It hurts me if I hurt them. Maybe sometimes it seems that it does not affect me, but it does. A lot. I am not the best at explaining myself but I am doing my best to avoid hurting, of any kind. I fail sometimes, maybe because of my short temper, maybe because of my sharp tongue,  but it’s not coming from my heart. I’ll put all my time and effort in somebody close to my heart.

And there are proofs anywhere. Especially with the people I loved, the people I dreamed of a life with. I usually give it all, until there’s nothing left. Then I take a break, get my battery charged and start all over again. It’s normal. I’m not the only one.

Somebody who just met me a few times (not a boyfriend, just a friend) told me that he doesn’t know much about me but he can tell that I give 100% in everything and probably that’s where my drama is… nobody can give it back… His words haunt me.

The thing is that I don’t want it back. I just want people to understand that I feel happy when they are happy. And when I’m happy, everybody can feel it. These small things make me happy. Just accept it. Don’t think about what you need to give me in return, just cherish what I share. I get a lot in return. I am blessed with good people around me. I even had strangers helping me when I most needed it. And that made my heart full. If a stranger who has no clue who I am, helped me or told me a good word, then there’s no reason for me not to share love with the ones I know.

Is not the words we speak everyday, is not the moments when we react or feel scared of ourselves, is our hearts that will be always in the light and will make everything else insignificant. Some people are insecure, they hide behind bullying, behind spite, jealousy or a poor opinion of themselves. Before I felt the same, but when I realized that I can do better than this, I left it all behind. Of course there are still exceptions, I can’t control it. I am trying my best. And I realized that I’m more peaceful, happier, my bad days are less, my sadness is less bitter.

I don’t like to play games. Those days are gone. It makes me hurt and I don’t want this for myself. I’m hunting for honesty lately, but I am bit disappointed. Not discouraged, just, I’ll admit it, very disappointed.

You’ll tell me that I’m really naive. But now you tell me: what should I do? Should I learn how to play games and become a piece of shit with other people, hurting them without any remorse or just try and try until I will find what I want, or until people realize that it’s a lot better on my camp. Call me whatever you want, but I will keep on trying.

It feels lonely but it’s ok. It feels lonelier next to people who are pretending. A lot lonelier. I can’t pretend. You’ll see it on my face when something is wrong. Same when I’m happy. It feels infinite times lonelier next to somebody who’s not honest, first of all, with themselves. They will destroy you searching for their power to be honest.

Anyway, one day somebody will fully benefit of this heart of mine. And if it’s not a human being I’ll get a dog. I’ll go take care of orphans. There are ways. I don’t regret anything. At the end of the day at least I don’t go to sleep thinking that I hurt somebody.

I try my best to fix my mistakes. I know precisely where my words and my actions come from and if I feel I did wrong, I’ll do my best to make it right. I go to bed with a friendly conscience. My demons haunt me for other deeds, not for this.

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

 

 

It’s not a disclaimer, it’s an insight

Most of the times when I write I get carried away. I start from point A and I don’t follow a straight line, I build a net. Sometimes I find a line that I like, that strikes me, in a book or a song or even in my head and I start from there.

I get passionate after that and it might look like I am angry or upset but I am actully in bed writing peacefully. I get passionate about my ideas it’s true, and writing gives voice to them. I mean I just want to express myself. That’s my way.

Sometimes I write about how and what I feel but most of the times I love to write about general stuff, that applies to everybody. Sometimes it’s just something I imagine. Sometimes it’s a mix of a lot of stuff and sometimes I start writing inspired by others.

I used to write when I was younger in a very personal note. I used to write in Romanian and everything was more expressive. I think I wrote for about 3 years or more, on a regular basis. I wrote about people I know and they read it. Some of them had a revelation. Some of them still remember. Some of them disliked the honesty.

Anyway, I think it’s only about the power of letting your ideas flow. It’s a relief. I think a lot and sometimes certain thoughts won’t give me peace until I let them out. Sometimes an idea persists too long to ignore it. It gets stuck in my mind like a parasite.

You should see how many drafts I have saved, and some are more than a year older. Sometimes I am shy to publish them as they can be easily missunderstood. Sometimes they’re too naughty or harsh to be published. Sometimes those posts are about some people and I don’t want them to read it, even though I’m not always sure they’ll realize it’s about them. I go back and read my drafts for myself. Sometimes I am brave and publish them.

After all is my own virtual corner. And anyway confusion occurs no matter what. Sometimes I encrypt message and to be honest I have no idea if they reach where they supposed to.

Mostly I write for 2 reasons. When I overthink and when I find something I like to talk/write about. I write about personal experiences, of course, only because here I can really approach them the way I want to. I exhaust my ideas here.

Most of my great ideas or writing topics are sometimes occuring at times when it’s impossible for me to sit down and write. I try to keep my ideas until I can do so, but sometimes it’s just gone!

I used to write poetry back in the days, but it was way too romantic and could be easily considered cheesy. I wanted to write a book but I’m bad at dialogues and I can’t seem to find a subject to build around. I had a few ideas but they are still there… in Drafts.

Somehow I always come back to my experiences when it comes to write a book. Like a memoir or something. But my life should be discussed after I cease to exist :))

I think from now on I will add a quote that I like at the end of each post even if it’s not connected to what I wrote. I’m a sucker for quotes, that is!

What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez (one of my favourites authors of all times).