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She was so mad she couldn't even go to sleep. I hate his freaking guts, I despise his miserable person. Damn I hate him. I know now how to generate instant feelings of aggression, I will just think about him and about tonight. What do I do now though, I should go to sleep, but I am so angry I'd much rather be hitting a punching ball, or much better, that stupid bastard. Angie was to discover much later how that particular night, she wasn't just angry at him& She was mostly mad at herself for allowing this to happen.
It seemed that one out of one and a half conversation she had in those days was about love, betrayal, heartbreaks, loneliness and all that emotional crap. Lucie had been accused of thinking too much, of picturing human relationships like a game of checkers, or chess depending on the intricacies of the rules. She was 20. Her best friend was a disc-jockey at a trendy New York club. He was 25. His love for her was boundless. Nobody understood why on this morning of April 2006, he executed her then killed himself. They had spoken about love the night before.
Irrational fears, irrational minds, creative thoughts, disturbing images, destructive story. Oh my god, she smells so bad, I can't stand her sitting right next to me. A goat's odor is perfume compared to this. Yuck, I wonder if I am the only one smelling it. I need to ask Leemar. Leemar, I need to talk to you right now, outside! Liberating thoughts, growing anxiety, disproportionate reaction. So they hold an aparte to discuss whether I smell or not. But what can I do, my skin is fragile, easily attacked by bacteria. True, I could have taken a cab. Next time.
If you think you can learn life lessons in a 5 minutes car ride then I have wasted the past 4 years of MY life trying to put some sense in your head! You are wrong, if you listen to cab drivers, they can take you places you have never dreamt of...! Yeah, when they get lost& Silly! The other day I rode with this Egyptian Christian, I didn't even know such people existed. He dropped me off with this word: Freedom! Or that Haitian man who told me that he was so happy, he even smiled in his sleep!!
But what on earth was he thinking? Why did he keep his mouth shut the entire time? He deliberately ignored her, as if there was nothing left to be said. After so much had been said and done. He was enjoying seeing her though, laughing at her drunken wisecracks and false innocence. He would turn his head to the wall and laugh silently. His big black eyes seemed darker than usual, and whenever she caught him looking at her, he would quickly lower his gaze as if he didn't want her to see. She didn't see, but she could tell.
Claudia's heart was filled with anticipation. Actually, her entire body was. She was feeling restless, jittery and did not want to go to bed even if it was way past her regular sleeping time. She knew she was going to be a mess the next day. But she couldn't help it. Her entire body was covered with goose bumps! For once her ever talking brain had shut up. Left were only sensations, and how delightful they were. She was enjoying every minute of it, longing, shivering and sweating at the same time. A cold shower in a hot summer night.
He looked like a human-scale toy. You just wanted to play with him as soon as you saw him. Teasing dimples, gigantic smile. An extraordinary capacity to make-up stories. If you had enough childhood left in you, you would be enough to recognize him as a magician, master of the art of enthusiasm and a PhD in happiness. As a dull and jaded grown-up you would probably file him in the top right-hand corner of your brain along with the other eccentric. Too bad, because who is in a better position to give life lessons than one 85 year-old kid?
What's better? Leaving depressed in reality Leaving oppressed by an illusion Seeing things for what they are Wishing for things that are not Counting on people Cultivating solitude Telling the truth, all the truth, only the truth Only telling truths fit to say and fit to believe in Figaro, Beaumarchais' bishop was quite right. What happens when you see what other people don't What happens when you hear what no one else can What happens when you say what no one else wants to hear What happens when you want to change What happens when you want others to change
Dog shit is not always what it seems. Sometimes it's human shit. What do you mean human shit? Explain. I was walking in the park yesterday, I saw a man squatting by the ice-rink, his pants were down and he was shitting. Anyone coming after me would have thought someone didn't clean up after their dog, I saw the real thing. A man did this. Enough with parabolas just let me know where you are going with this. I am just saying that you might not be able to recognize your own shit&.or the shit of someone close to you&
What can I do? I can't clone myself and give it a good size penis, can I? Because, how else will I ever be able to find that exact match of mine. Someone who thinks along the same line, has a similar background, that is who knows how to dance zouk and how to curse in nouchi. Someone who shares the same value, someone who shares similar dreams and of course who considers love-making an extraordinary experience, an otherwordly experience, at which one can get better by very worldly, practical means. Then what? No struggle, no pain? Not quite true
Aggressive&..is what he called her. And he liked it. She was the one, that woman, he could sniff it. He was very good at detecting trails&..and that one was leading him to gold. How could he actually get her? She seemed to be the wild kind, from whom you could not expect much, from whom you could certainly not ask much. Why on earth was he falling? He shook his head. That woman was hampering all his efforts to chase his mother's favorite, the Donadieu's daughter. Her eyes, were always there, as if they had been stuck inside his brain.
Generalization is the beginning of the end. The beginning of the end of understanding, communion, the power of idiotic masses over thoughtful individuals. But it's so easy and simple. Two quotes for you to think over, a mathematician once said, what's simple is wrong and what's complicated is useless, and Rilke, my dear Rilke added that everything serious is difficult, that's why we need to hold on to it. Generalizing is simple, so it's wrong, not generalizing is difficult but not complicated, thus very serious and highly useful. Think about it, you will realize that there is everything to win&
Someone should write a self-help book entitled: people, notice of use. You are funny, the first thing I would put in is that people like to be blinded by light, not enlightened, they like everything that shines even if once you scrap the surface, you find more surface. I agree, I would also add that people are unaware of their shortcomings, or maybe they know them too well and are in denial. I find it hard to interact with non-depressed people, I just think they are so removed from reality there is not point in trying to bring them back&
The h in her last name is mute, but I know what it stands for: horny! Seriously, the bitch wore me out last night. And the night before last, And days too. She just wants it all the time! She really doesn't look like it, but the truth is she is a tiger, man, I don't know how long I can last. Are you saying, you can't perform as much as she wants. No she is fucking hot I rise up all the times, the thing is, I am too exhausted to go to work. Tell her you have migraine.
- Money. I am telling you, if it wasn't for money, I'd be better looking, smarter, more competent, funnier, happier, better in bed. Really, money makes you all that, because it gives you a sense of security and the feeling of being untouchable in a non-Indian good way. - Is that so? No wonder rich people drink so much, and do so much drugs and have so many mental disorders. They are just too perfect to be true and probably can't handle the pressure. - You are making fun of me! - It's so that I don't cry for you&
You could tell she was a character by the way she walked. It seemed like an eternity passed between the moment she lifted her leg from the ground and dropped it in a shattering earthquake. Her hair was trimmed short and she was wearing large gold hoops earrings. Stereotypical ethnic beauty. But then, that's a word you would know not to use in front of her: ethnic. Somehow, she conveyed the feeling that her character, her shape, her dark skin with blue reflections were too large for that word. Ethnic. They were. Simply were. Harmony. Beauty. Regardless of origins. Beautiful.
She was wearing a bright black tank top and fitted black pants. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and her eyes were dilated with joy. She was singing, dancing, clearly having a blast, clearly putting on a show. She was there, she wanted to be looked at, she wanted to be seen, she wanted to be talked about. And her smile, a billion dollar smile! She was smiling like there was no tomorrow, like she needed to spend all her smile savings at that moment. The lead singer of the band seemed surprised and would occasionally steal a glance.
He had phone call paralysis. He was dreading calling her because he knew that so much was going to depend on what she was going to say. He'd rather stand still, his heart very heavy, heavy but still whole. Her decision could shatter it in thousand pieces, or lighten it up so much his heart could actually fly out of his chest&and land right in her hands. Why was he so scared then? They say it's almost better to know. He knew already. He needed to hear&but mostly he had that dash of hope that kept him alive all along
I just heard about this very interesting theory. Pray tell. It's called the whatever rocks your boat grand discovery. I am all ears. It goes like this. If whatever rocks your boat rocks my boat, then we rock together in the same boat. If whatever rocks your boat doesn't rock my boat, then we rock separately in different boats. So far so good? Yes. It's get complicated though, because your boat might be smaller or bigger than mine, or your boat might be about to capsize, while mine might be surfing the waves on the way to a paradisiacal island.
You know you are hungovered, when even riding a bike at the gym seems as high-risk as skydiving to your cluttered brain and hydrocephalic (or at least that's what it feels like) head. All you can think about is how it's so bright outside and how you don't give a damn because your bed is the most comfortable place in the world right now. All you can think about is how you would love to empty all that water that's making your head so heavy. All you can think about is how you managed to even get to your bed.
Her tooth fell while she was talking to a hot guy at Bar All last night. She wasn't even mortified, alcohol wouldn't let her. She started laughing and told him that he should consider talking to someone who had teeth. To his credit, the man did not seem put off at all, he kept on chatting and I think was hoping to score as a considerate human-being. Clara couldn't care less though. She had just spent two hours crying about her ex-fiance, and now that. Her tooth. That man could be the comfort angel himself, it would not be enough.
The problem with Ed is that he liked to fight more than to fuck. No wonder he was such a lousy lover. Serwaa wasn't into drama. Sex yes, drama no. She was too young. Too old. She had no time to waste. She wanted to fuck, he wanted to talk. He was a couple years older, a twenty-six-year-old boy in a 6 ft 2 body. She told me all this after she realized Ed was a cry-baby. She wanted to give it a second shot. No more afterwards. Until next time, I thought. She heard my eyes, and smiled mysteriously.
Selfpathy is the right word. Definitely not sympathy, not empathy, and compassion is just an outright lie. It's the feeling that what happened to someone else, could also happen to you, and instead of creating the desire to help and to console, it creates the desire to mock the other and/or to protect your interests. Selfpathy is disheartening, it represents the failure of human-beings to be what they were put on earth for, human. It represents the failure of friends to act like what they were chosen for, friendly. It represents the failure of love, the victory of selfishness, loss&.
I need you, I need you to come and love me. Today, tonight, tomorrow. I need you to come and hold me, now, for a minute, an hour. I need you to come and make love to me, I need you to come and let me make love to you, over and over again&and again. I need you to come and laugh at me, I need you to come and make me laugh, I need you to come and let me laugh at you and let me make you laugh, I need you to come&make me come too. Just come&
What if I had been wrong all along. Because I have a dismal record when it comes to the interpretation of other people's feelings towards me. I got yelled at by my booty call. I suspect he had an agenda and that his desire to help me was not entirely altruistic (and I know because I have done the same), but still, talking to him was an eye-opener. I was shockedt. What if I had been wrong all along? What if I am not the person I think I am? Not a chance. Trouble starts when I improvise myself mind-reader..
Haven't been there for the longest time. Have never been there really. Have built a barrier long back. Or maybe it's been there all this time and it's just that no one has ever managed to cross it. I am not in love. Big deal. What is love really? All I know is: If I like you, be careful&If I don't like you, I won't bother unless I am in the mood for games&but love? What is it really? I only know the one my mother has for me. A love in which pride walks side by side with anguish.
Hey! Listen to my. I am your solitude speaking. I know you would much rather have a warm body to cuddle with, especially when it's so rainy and cold outside, but listen. I am here for you. I can do a lot of good. I pressure you into learning what you can do to enjoy me. Because that's the ultimate goal, to enjoy me so that when another solitude comes along, you can enjoy both of us and you will also have a warm body to cuddle with , a warm mind to dip into, a warm heart to love&
Dear Solitude, It's nice of you to be so considerate as to guide me into better appreciating you. You are preaching to someone who is already converted. I know how good you are for me and I know how hard it will be for me to accommodate the requirements of any typical relationship with enjoying you and being with you. It's Friday night, and I am talking to you. My friends, acquaintances, ex-lovers, ex-boyfriends are all somewhere doing their things&I am hurting, dear Solitude. I am hurting because I want, because I need human warmth. My whole body is aching.
Be patient dear, As I was always within you, other solitudes are too. They belong to people you haven't met, or that you have met without managing to uncover them. Stay still. Be patient. There is no room for despair. Not yet. Never actually. Stay confident. Stay happy. Stay bubbly. Being along is not the end of the world, it's just the beginning of an incredible journey that involves discipline, adventure, exploration of your heart, mind and body. After that, you will be the best guide of your own feelings, the best conductor of your thoughts and of your words.
Dear Solitude, How about the thrills? Thrills that only another presence, another human-being can give you. Thrills caused by excitement, sexual or not, anticipation, fear, admiration, respect, competition. Thrills that makes you want to go beyond yourself. Can you provide those to me? If you can, please do, because then, I will be less lonely. Or let me rephrase, I will be missing people less, because indeed, people are a terrible thing to miss. It's almost saying that you miss taking out the garbage. (assuming it's something you don't like to do in the first place). Can you be thrilling?
Dear, People give you things I cannot give you, but I give you an immensity you can only reach through me. You like to hear things, you like music, the music of words in songs, on paper, so I am going to give you words to hear. Every day, you are becoming more beautiful, because every day your are becoming a better you. Every day, you are becoming more apt socially, because every day your are becoming more confident in yourself. Every day, you are becoming more lovable, because happiness is contagious. Every day, you are more ready to love&
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