I regret kisses

I have a friend who keeps me grounded. He doesn’t mean to, really, he means nothing, but I can’t help to get a little carried away when it comes to him, my mind goes to places it shouldn’t, and I have to make this idea, this build up that is so detached from reality that it scares me. My mind makes me sad, no. My mind takes me places, makes up scenarios where I’m incredibly happy, and then reality brings me back. But never all the way down, I get to this suspended happiness, because if I can think it then there is a chance it can happen. And that’s where he comes in, he doesn’t even try, like most man haha, he just Is and is the most cruel and honest wake-up call ever. I don’t think, obviously, in general of course, but about love specifically, in love I just am, I will happily go wherever I’m taken. This doesn’t come from a passive attitude, I have my eyes on the end goal, always seeing the broader picture so who cares if a few strokes are a bit different? It’s all a part of the picture. He thinks. He over thinks, he is a planner, my sister told me that she didn’t liked him for me, because he just “knew too much about life” she knows I don’t think, she knows he does, he has a plan, and it’s dangerous to play a game when you don’t know by which rules the other one is playing. So I get carried away, and he never does. It’s always wrong until it’s the right one. I have kissed 7 guys in my life and I have this idea that I don’t want to get to double digits and still be looking for whatever, I have 3 more chances, 3 more guys to kiss. Now when the situation presents itself I have to think “is this worth one of the slots?”, and thinking is good, but then again, so is kissing, and you only regret the things you didn’t do right? Although I regret a few of those kisses, actually I regret kisses I had but zero I hadn’t... I’m in a dangerous mood, a friend is coming, a nice sweet kissable friend. Note to self: start thinking, and the sooner the better. Can you exorcise your kissing needs by writing about them? The inside scoop says no. step away from anything even remotely kissable, when in desperate need picture          . If you get nauseous from picturing someone kissing someone does that mean that you have feelings for that person? If so I have much more feelings then what I thought, it’s freaking feelings Christmas over here. Dangerous times call for dangerous games.

Exactly how many

What if you had a magic something that could answer to all of you questions? Could be a magic ball, a magic pair of underwear, a magic toast, doesn’t matter. What would you ask? Besides all the important stuff I would ask the most random questions ever, I was thinking about this today, the rules are: you have unlimited questions and the answers are either numbers or yes and no, and of course it has to be something that is can actually know.  I would ask a ton of times the most random questions ever, “how many people are pooping right now in the entire world?”, “how many tomato seeds exist in my salad?”, “is my wallet/keys/purse/phones in this house?”, “did anyone noticed that I went out with my grandmothers nightgown?”, “how many people laughed at me instead of with me?”, “was it real?”, “Will my parrot ever stop biting me?”. And then you have the practical questions, the everyday life questions “Is this jackass telling the truth?”, “is the file I need in my computer?, “am I forgetting something?”, “is this cleavage too much?”, you get it. No more wondering, I could live without wondering about this trivial questions, but most of all I think it would be the best thing ever, you would always have new things to ask and then you would be the unbearable person who knows everything. Beautiful

If you could know exactly how many times you would still fall in love, would you do it? Would you like to know? Is this a similar question to the famous “would you like to know when you are going to die?”. Do we regard the mystery of love the same as we do death?

I think, given the choice I would like to know. I can live without the mystery, I sometimes reed the end of books, I only read it after I create a bond with the characters, I care about them, and knowing what is going to happen gives me time to process it. I always need time for that, I am not one to make rash anything, decisions, judgments, statements. I think it’s just because I hate regrets, I hate that feeling that I did something wrong and that I can’t take it back. This is beyond the point.

I would like to know what’s the ending to my book, not specifics, but in general strokes. Will I ever live in a house filled with cats, or will I die a horrible painful death while young, or something else, nobody knows. A part of your future is your responsibility, but it can’t be 100% you, that will drive you crazy. If 100% of your future is your responsibility then, all the special shit that happens to you is also your fault, as well as all the shit that doesn’t happen to you. You and I are not 100% responsible for our future, I am still crunching the numbers to see exactly how much are we to blame for it, so I will get back to you on that one.

I wouldn’t like to know when I will die though. When you know that you start counting down, I never want to count my days down to zero, I want to add them not subtract them. I feel like moving. I feel like disappearing, Houdini is gone but not forgotten.

13

13 and not turning into anything interesting. It’s when you start wanting to be interesting to others It’s that age when you start to want to be a part of someone’s fantasies. It was not personal, a rock could do that, but it’s when you start developing your sexual identity. I go to the doctor, I have a weird looking waist, it’s more pronounced in one side not a big deal, it’s just uneven. X-ray and I have the first picture of my spine, it’s not what it was supposed to be, it has a detour, it’s a lovely S. At 40 degrees you get surgery, I had the lucky 57. So here I go. My mother takes advantage of this excellent opportunity to pretend to be an interested mother, it’s perfect, she loves crisis, she gets to prove that she is there for us, but only if it’s a short crisis, otherwise she loses interest and you are left to deal with it. She has crisis ADD. We went to this osteopathic doctor, and he says that my curve is affecting my emotional balance and my ability to feel happy in a constant way, I have a curve that makes me unbalanced, and the irony is not lost in me. So he tells my mother that I can’t sleep on my side, just on my back and without a pillow, and if she could get a wooden board for me to sleep on it would be perfect. All to which she complies without question, it was not her so it’s all fine. She should also wear a vest. A hard plastic thing that you wear 24h a day underneath your clothes but always with an undershirt, even in summer. So we went vest and track suits shopping because it was the only thing I could wear with it.

I’m in high school, in a new school, I don’t know anyone and I looked like this athletic person when in reality I hate running and I couldn’t move. I made friends despite it, and even some guys decided that they liked me, bless their hormonal souls, but no one knew. I had no power over what was happening to me, my mother decided for me and left me alone to deal with the consequences of her choices, even if that’s not what she meant, that’s how it felt to me so I guess in the end there is no difference. After some time, one year, two years don’t really remember I started to lie, I lied to everyone, I was good, it was perfect lies and no one caught me. I lied about borrowing clothes, about where I was, about if I was wearing it or not, some of them were lies by omission. There is no difference. I was lying to my sister and she started to cry, she was so sad so disappointed at me for lying to her, I will never forget her face. I have no more lies in my life.

I went to a consult and I had 24º or something like that that to me, translated in “you are free, you are finally free”, so I stopped wearing it, and I shouldn't have, no one did anything to stop me, my mother’s ADD kicked in so there was no one paying attention to what I was doing and I did what I wanted. She blames me for not being better, she thinks it’s all my fault for making such a bad decision, she lets me know that often. She made me do it, my opinion didn't matter at all, but now it’s on me, it’s my responsibility it’s all my fault that I’m not perfect like I should be. The first time I was going to the beach with my ex-mother in law my mother said to me “you should keep your shirt on, she might not like you for her son when she sees your back”, such a lovely person. She kept me from trying this things that I always wanted to do, like ice skating and surfing because they might not be good to me, I can only blame myself for listening to her and not doing them.

 I went to another consult, first one in 7 years, the doctor said that I can do anything I want, no restrictions except lifting weights, endless possibilities just opened for me, and I’m scared to grab them all. I had to always play it safe, I had to be super careful and responsible and now I can do whatever I want to do. I will die from all this freedom. I’m not better, but I’m not worse, and I kicked my mother out of my consultations so it’s just me and my sister who keeps telling me that it’s not as bad as it could be, she is still pregnant and if she knows what’s good for her she will stay pregnant for as long as she tells me things like that, for you cannot hit a knocked up lady. Everyone wants me to have surgery, I can wake up from it and never walk again, not to mention that I could not wake up at all, so if I do it, I will do it because I want it, it’s the only way you can live with the consequences of your choice. If I do it, it will be for me, it will be because I think it’s the best for me, just like a smart grown up should do. I should know, I asked a few of them. Pff! I don’t know any smart grownups thank god!  

Number Zero

I have written a thousand posts, on, two, eight, every day. I can’t seem to have the time nor the energy to write them down, but that’s not the reason, I think I had a hole somewhere and now that I know it’s there I can try to do something about it. I beg the pardon of every person who was counting on this to make a small contribution to their day, I feel unworthy of all your attention. I will do my best to never fail you again. I made a restart. So now I am restarted and fully rested.

Number One: I’m never going to let my kids watch cartoons, doesn't your soul curl inside every time a child pretends to be a cartoon? With those stupid noises and body comedy, like when they pretend to run into a wall, and do the whole routine. That’s grounds to give a child up. Can you imagine a home for kids that were ditched by their parents because of, totally viable reasons that are just not accepted by society? “I’m a selfish little prick” “I scream to get my parent’s attention” “I think I’m a princess” “I think I’m a cartoon” “I’m useless” … kids are born these perfect little things, the people who raise them are the ones who screw them up. Having a kid who pretends to be a cartoon could be grounds to be excomungated if that still meant anything.

Number Two: I was walking the other day, in my favorite beach, in the most perfect day off all, with my mp3 blasting the best music, and then all of the sudden, our music started to play, I could not breath, My body wanted to shut down I had to stop. It took me by surprise, I am fine, I am done and I am over all of that. I have no regrets but something literally started to hurt inside of me, I have no idea what it was, but it was there, I think it’s unfinished, my thing with you is unfinished, not dead but not alive either, it’s suspended. It feels like an open door, not a door, it’s an open window, so tall that you can’t reach it but you for sure can see the light. This possibility kills me but it also lights me up.

Number Three: You little piece of shit! Who the f*** do you think you are to just ignore me? You are not too busy to reply to me, I was your friend even when you knew way better than me what was going on, how you were screwing with me, you knew! And I had no idea. You good for nothing worthless sample of a man! I am going to smash it, swear to all the gods I will smash it to bits, I will film it and make you watch. Who are you to decide that we are not friends anymore? I was nothing but kind to you. Why are you being so mean to me then? Why do I let you be in my life if you don’t bring me any joy?

Number Four: Your friends think you are in love with me, they tease you about it and you over compensate it by mistreating me, you don’t love me in the romantic way they think they saw, but you love me, and I love you, in a very platonic way. But why does the idea of us together makes you so uncomfortable? Could it be true? Please don’t let it be true, I love that I can sleep with you and feel completely safe, I love that I can just hug you for as long as I need and you don’t read too much into it, nor do I get the feeling that you just let me do that to feel my boobs. I love that we are friends, please don’t let that change you idiot. I need all the friends I can get.

Number Five: The definition of completion must be this, a bike, a beach a sunset and an mp3 with just the right music. The feeling that you have when you don’t want to change a single thing in that moment is incredible. It’s so sad that you want to change so many things in a normal day, maybe it’s just me, and maybe it’s only me that wants to change all the stuff in her life.

Number Six: So I met this Italian guys, and I was shocked, they were so nice and funny, and actually smart. Good for Italy for still being able to produce two very good specimens of the male side of the specie. Don’t get me wrong, I met my fare share of handsome Italians, but none of them was even remotely nice, there is just something about them. One of these Italians had an amazing insight about this conundrum, he thinks that Italians in vacations have this panties seeking radar, and that is all they see. But in their main land they are normal people, normal nice guys, as nice as a******* on vacation can be in their “real life”. So now we update the idea that all Italian guys suck, to the hope filled new plan that “All Italian guys suck when they are on vacation”. Congrats Italy.

Number Seven:  People ask you if you want to get married, or if you want to have kids. You have this idea. So this was an evolution for me. First I wanted it all, wanted to marry my first love and have four kids, I had this clear idea that every kid deserves to have a brother and a sister so four was the magic number, that was all that I wanted, I just wanted a person to go on the ride with me. When I was alone again, I refused to think about that, decided that since I would probably die alone I should just deny that, and convince myself that I didn't wanted any of those things so I would say that I didn't wanted to get married nor kids. So now that I think I’m ok again I had some kind of an epiphany. So now I want to find someone that makes me want these things. If you have a job opening you are looking for someone to fill that position, but I want something more, I want someone that makes me want to do those things, so from now on my, hopefully more elucidated answer will be “I don’t know what will happen to me, It all depends on what life brings”. I think it’s even smarter that I have no idea if this is better or worse.

Number Eight: I am the worst at reading people, it took me a long time to admit that, I thought I was good at it, but the evidences started to pile up, I make incredible wrong judgment of the people I meet. Now I know why, I mirror on them what I wish to see, I find in them the little things that give me hope that they are just like I want them to be. But they are what they are no matter what you want them to be, so the bottom line is, I suck at reading people. But I have this friend, and I have this feeling that he has one of those “forever” types of love to give, and he wants to give it, it’s hard to walk away from someone who could love you forever. I thought I had something like that and turns out it wasn't forever and yet another proof of how little I read people. The other time I was sure it wasn't for ever and it wasn't so if we forget the other five thousand times I was wrong you could say that I was getting better at this. He is coming here, and he could stay here and it would be something.

Number Nine: I am stranded in an island, It’s an island made of work and weirdness, and all around me are incredible good looking people, that are partying all the time and having a blast, never the awkward potato was a more accurate title to describe me, but I’m a bicycle riding potato, hopefully I will have incredible legs by the time this is all over, hurray for that.. I need a network system here, I have nothing and no one and that’s just not my style. I am going to do things, but what I can do now is just establish connections with a much older crowd. Well, I can do anything I want, and I say, let’s try to do both!

Number Ten:   “What we want to be and what we feel are two different things”

The right time

     It's hard to make friends, keeping them is even harder. We lose them to the weirdest things, boyfriends, girlfriends, possessions, time, life, alcohol, old age, locations. some of them find their way back, others not really, and sometimes you have to be the one who lets them go. Learning what is the right time to let someone out of your life is one of the most difficult lessons, I would love to know, know for sure that someone isn't worth it, that that person will bring me no more joy and even if they do, it will never be enough to balance out the bad things they will do. I'm not different from any other, i think we all would like to know it, or just to be sure of what we had done. I had to cut off some people, but they left me no choice, I will never walk away from what I love, but I will also never break, and you can only bend so far. When people drive you to the brink you can only break or walk away, and you should never feel bad for doing what you have to do in order to survive.

      Anyone who lets anything get in the way of your friendship maybe wasn't a true friend. but then again, people come to your life, and serve their purpose and then they leave. Isn't this a variation of the damn "everything happens for a reason"? Shit happens, not for a reason, but because shit happens, that's all. So people enter and leave your life randomly? They might enter as a random thing, but they, or you, chose to let them leave.

     I think i'm going to vote some people out of my island, I like to keep a tight ship, keep your friends at large and your enemies nonexistent.

     I hate that move of the "i will just stop engaging the conversation and eventually they will feel like "oh we just lost touch" and i'm like "no we didn't! it was all in my plan!", it's the trade mark of a non confrontational person, be bold and brave, tell it like it is, move on and let them move on as well. Don't you think they feel like they are doing all the effort? that they are not appreciated? ... what a load of crap. I hope we are all doing our best to be our best, we all screw things up. I'm taking the lion share of it, I'm a screw up hoarder.

     Make them tall  make them fat and short, make them thin, make them sad and joyful, make them from all around the world, make them gay and straight make the from your neighbors, make them non-humans make it with the ones who bark make it with the cakes you bake and with the people you hate. Make friends from all walks of life, and cut out the suckers who don't want to make you happy. 

For sure tomorrow

       All I see around me are couples, people grouped two by two, couples couples everywhere. Do you only see what you want or you look for what you dread? 

       What is this need not to be alone? Why are we all so afraid to be alone? Today there was a show on TV about unlikely friends, it was a blind horse and an old goat, a goose and a tortoise, and a white gibbon and some Capuchin monkeys. Not even animals want to be alone. The white gibbon was a circus animal so he couldn't connect with other animals of his own species, he only felt comfortable with young Capuchin monkeys, and they didn't let him be a part of their family, none of them accepted him and he had no one, he called and called and no one answered. The adult monkeys didn't liked him, he was bigger and stronger them them, so they were scared of him, they used their numbers to keep him out of the family. Only the young Capuchin tolerated him, so every year he had to make new friends, because the monkeys out grew him.

       When they become adults they have different perspectives on the events, I guess we all become more judgmental with age.

He is the forever alone gibbon, always on the outside looking in with no one to love and no one to love him back. This is the rule for humans as well, you are the lonely white gibbon until you, per some kind of miracle find another weird white gibbon to be with, then you are the one laughing at the ones who just don't get it.

     We were our love like a medal of honor, your wedding ring is the "I made it, I survived and someone loves me" statement that you wish you could cream at every weird white gibbon. In the name of all the weird ones, you can stop now, we all get it, and we all are trying our best to be happy for all of you.

       Now the unthinkable twist, what if we like to be like this? Are we ready to go against what feels natural to us? Are we forcing ourselves to be happy in our involuntary loneliness or are we discovering another unlikely friendship? Maybe some of us don't need anybody, or even worst, Maybe we don't want to be paired up. Is it resignation, bitterness or an evolutionary leap? Can we redefine what makes us happy, or genetics will always have the last word?

      Love is real. It can be wonderful or it can suck really bad, but it's real. If it never finds you, it's a matter of survival that you find happiness in your life style, if you never fall in love you have no choice but to be happy. However, if the bastard sneaks up on you you can either listen to it or just ignore it. You can really try to be happy taking no risks and making no hard and difficult choices, you will find a way to be alone and contempt. You can be only completely happy if, either love never finds you or if you take chances if it does. Playing it safe never helped anyone helping themselves.

     I'm trying something new, for the thousand time. I will lay low, so low that no one will ever find me. I am in dire need of a break and some peace and quiet. I found that i write about what is on my mind. when i needed courage, or was trying to inspire courage to someone i couldn't write about anything else, and now, it seems that i can only write about relationships and their meaning. I have been thinking about that for quite some time. I'm in search of something new to write about, if i write about what i think, then it's time to start thinking about something different. The time to change is now. Or tomorrow. For sure tomorrow. Monday is the right day to change.

Tomorrow we all change together.

The same place

     He's moving for love, he's in love with a girl in another country and so, obviously he is moving. different country, different "language", different job, friends, house, food, different everything. And he's still moving, after weighing things he came to the conclusion that everything would be worth it if he would be with her, and from what I heard she doesn't even like him like that much. So he's moving for the promise of love, the possibility of being happy with her is better then the security of normal life without her. Is that what love is? Is that bravery? I try, but I can't see the poetic of it. I would move for love. For love of myself, with the complete knowledge that I was doing that to make myself happy, because being with that person would make me happy. What type of person would move for a possibility? Isn't that a bit desperate? Isn't that "Hey i'm here so love me please? Now that we are in the same place and everything is easy and uncomplicated lets really try to be together yes?" It's easy to make it work when you are in the same place. Easier. Isn't that the start of something that is broken to begin with? If it didn't work while it was hard isn't that the ultimate test? If it's "meant to be" shouldn't it survive the hard times and make it trough to the other side? Is that contradictory? A girl who wouldn't move for a possibility thinks true love conquers all. I've heard strangest things.

     Some other friend. She's the one moving. But they tried their best to make it trough a hard and difficult situation, and they did. They worked really hard to make it, the time was also right. Don't take credit away from them. It was hard, and they, so far, made it. That makes me proud, and hopeful and of course, in the true friendship spirit a bit self-conscious with just a pinch of jealousy. Can you be completely happy without that little bit of jealousy from your less fortunate friends? Than how could you be condescending talking with them all the way from your high horse? My horse died a long time ago. Not long enough to stop tormenting my tired should. "I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all.. memories that remain"(insert sad corny ABBA song here). If I had true friends at least one of them should have kicked my ass, when I was oh so righteous on them. Never, ever, ever, again. 

     It's a delightful ride though, you think you can see it all from that impossible high horse, I would suspect it holds a striking resemblance with getting high, you think you can see clearer then ever, but the truth is that it's all a bit foggy.

     They are moving. Anywhere. For love.. Maybe they know something that we are still trying to figure out, maybe the view from inside the fog is much better then out here in the cruel bright real light. I hope for the best. I'm feeling claustrophobic.

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage" Anais Nin