weird is in the air

Strange things are happening lately. 

Though at my perceived worst state of appearance, I assume I am unconsciously (and surely quite unwillingly) spreading misleading messages through the air. Otherwise I have no explanation of why so many men recently seem to believe that they are welcome to join me into my pants or at least to try. Or to address me like a professional hooker.

In 4 weeks I experienced:

- A 27 years old blond shallow yet somehow funny boy with whom I went out for a drink once who sent me at 3:30 am on a Friday night an email reading “Hi, what´s up? Want to come over?”. I presume he wanted to show me his stamps collection, at 3:30 am. *Not answered*.

- A 40-something years old, chain smoker, not particularly attractive but surely not stupid French man who, during an actually quite interesting yet not very original conversation about men/women managed to let me know that for him, an ideal week-end with a woman does not imply leaving the abode. “Oh, interesting. I have to go to the toilet; would you excuse me?”

- A 30ish very handsome Kneanu Reeves type who walks to me while I am leaving the subway station after a dog day at work saying how he noticed me in the train and if I have a boyfriend, no?, oh, then maybe we can hang out, maybe you are like me, an open minded person, someone who likes to have fun, you know what I mean. Yes, I know what you mean, and no, in this case I am not open minded, no. Oh, so you look for a relationship? Yes, I do. Oh, so you are conservative? (wait, wait…since when not screwing the first stranger who hits on you in a subway station equates being conservative?! I mean, I am very progressive but not a slut…please, please tell me that there is still a formal and substantial difference!). “Sorry, ´twas nice meeting you, I have to go”. 

- My 36 years old historic ex boyfriend of so many years who roughly got out of my life after meeting his new girl (fine) and who has not talked to me for exactly 2 years (not quite fine). Mr. Elegance, successful and appreciated attorney, decides to break the silence and get back in contact with me writing an email asking if maybe I could send him some sexy pictures of me, not necessarily nudes, maybe wearing sandals or nice lingerie, it´s ok if my face is covered.  And since I am so into charity projects, he would be happy to donate 50 bucks pro picture to any organization of my choice. “Ih Ih, how funny, oh, yeah and fuck off, ex-boyfriend. There is always a reason for that ex-”.

Now,

seriuously...

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU GUYS ?!  GET SOBER! 

(just in what direction, please?)

surfing the wave, discover the realm

(thanks to Brother)

suspended in pleasure

Being in delightful company, these days.

How enchanting.

Good Grief!

(recently seen downtown...sigh)

someone´s gotta learn

one for the love, one for the faith

I saw your roommate tonight, I met him at a party where his solitude was looking for a companion. Like all our solitudes are. I saw your roommate, tonight, and my heart started pounding because immediately he dragged me to you, into your small messy room where, right now, you are sleeping in your broken bed, your daughter resting next to you on the mattress on the floor.  

There is no roommate without your shadow sticking on his back. There is no roommate saying that he knows what I am going through without you looking over his shoulder as a sneering ghost. There is only a tall blond German-Brazilian who unintentionally brings me back exactly to where I painfully walked away from, with a burden of sadness I am carrying with me every day. He brings me back to my lake of illusions and fake recollections, my infidel memories of you, where you were sensitive, difficult for sure, but where you cared for me. Yet that lake did not make it. It dried up, became an arid, sterile bed in which water and life have been cruelly burned by a merciless, careless sun.

There was never a you who loved me.

There was never a you who wanted to overcome the issues in your  life.
There was never a you who cared enough.

There was never a you who wanted to be with me, for real.

This is the icy river in which I had to swim, hard, fast, with all my left energy, as not to drown.

My river of delusion, bitter truth, badly put trust.

I wish I could see you again with my indulgent eyes, but you proved me too well how wrong I was.

I saw your roommate tonight and it made me shed two long, heavy tears, not one more.

One for the immense love I had for you which you murdered. 
One for my faith.    

age of aquarius

Ok, I changed my mind. This IS temporary a medical bulletin and hypochondriacs forum. My generally called cold has reached the stage “ear infection”.  I am on antibiotics, drops, pills, drugs and all that stuff.

But the funny thing is that, beside a incessant yet still bearable pain, I feel like my head was stuck in an aquarium. 

Bubble bubble bubble.   

What? Aehh? Bubble bubble bubble.  

I will officially start worrying when I start seeing fish.

gimme the third way

I am working a lot lately, travelling much more than I am used to, flying every week for a few days to a hot and sunny country and coming back to a continental non-predictable weather (mostly not hot and not sunny, though). The result is a mild, yet very much annoying cold which is declinating in every form a cold can possibly assume. Since this is no medical bulletin or hypochondriacs forum, I will skip the details. The fact is that this little health issue made me ask in loop: cui prodest?

I mean, it´s just a cold and it will eventually go away so that I will actually enjoy my meal instead of just gulping down calories without tasting anything at all, but, if I got caught in the plane viruses net within my third flight, how can my boss not be in the hospital with tubes coming out of his nose? 

The poor guy is stress in person also due to some restructuring my company is undergoing. He is doing an incredible job and, on one of our flights, he announced that he has been promoted: clap clap clap!

And then he adds "Yes, this is certainly a great satisfaction but...it means additional responsibilities and...I don´t know how I am going to manage it all". Short pause. Snear "I think I should start using coke". 

Joke aside (the guy is such a picture perfect family man that he wouldn´t even smoke a joint), the pondering question, again is: cui fucking prodest? For whom are we doing this? Why? For whose sake? So that we can show off the expensive car? So that our kids can go to international schools and our wives can have a boob job done after they are done with breast feeding? Yes, I know this is a quite banal and diffused anti-consumerism and lefty theme, returning over and over like Christmas and the World Championship, so no new brilliant sociological manifesto but just the consideration that...it makes me sad. I really do not get the point of this all, so, instead of running along, I am just walking on the side, moderately skeptical, pretending that I understand why they all run and that I am just warming up to join them. In fact, I am looking for the emergency exit. Which I haven´t obviously found yet, but which I truly truly hope doesn´t necessarily mean that I have to become a vegan post-modern hippy wearing organic-cotton ugly and yet ridiculously expensive garments. No no, that please no!

I want the third way. 

I am going to find a third way. Yes, I am. It´s one of the few things I really really want.

sneering