Pablo

It was love at first sight.

Believe me, i’d never touched one of his kind before. Never even thought about it. The nerve… me? a respectable young woman, involved in such deeds? Nonsensical. But then again…

That colour did look great on him. The smoothness, the way he opposed my every touch… call me crazy, I think i’m in love. Course, he’s already taken. I could get one of my own, but they don’t come easy, and i hear maintenance is quite difficult. Might be worth it tho, intercourse is great…

No silly. I don’t mean sex. No, of course i wasn’t talking about a man! They’re whimsical, fussy and you can never rely on them. Pablo’s kind, however, only requires a little attention and he’s yours for life. And trust me, it takes just as much nerve to learn how to ‘use’ a man as it does a guitar.

Yes, yes, that’s right, Pablo is a guitar. A cheap one, i hear, but oh boy does he have a personality… There’s no pushing down on him. He likes to be all over the place… hehe, come to think about it, he ain’t that different from most men i know.

He did give me a couple of bruises… my fingers will never be the same again, and my wrist… well, i should get it back in a day or two. But oh was it grand. Course, the neighbors complained about the noise. They always do.

On the other hand, how many times can you listen to bad ’smoke on the water’ without getting a bit… edgy? If the answer is more than three, give me a call, we’ll work something out.

Hell knows, i might even get one of my own. Friends, neighbor, local authorities, beware. No park shall be safe. No hour of the night shall go unviolated. But know this: I’ll be having one hell of a time. Safe.

Odd things about breakups

You know that feeling, when things seem to be working in a very strange way?

I mean, except when you’re drunk.

To be single again… Breakups are never fun. You know them, you’ve had them.They come for the right reasons, for the wrong reasons and for no reasons at all. And there are a few patterns that everyone seems to follow when it comes to breaking up.

First of all, it’s easier to stomach if it isn’t your fault. Seriously, having to cope with guilt on top of everything is not part of an easy transition. Now, as a woman, pointing the finger and laying blame helps me almost as much as eating chocolates.

Then, you start to notice people again, though crushed and severely emotionally impaired, you can’t help but be curious about the guy that’s looking at you persistently. Also, plans of making up for lost time, or healing your emotional scaring through sex often show up. They hardly ever amount to anything practical.

Then, people tend to fall into drawback. Relationships fall into something habitual after a few months, and coping with the fact that a part of your daily activity is gone can be difficult. You’re thinking of calling him, of trying to stay friends, of being jealous at his new girlfriend. Don’t. The only way to go is forward.

Fresh after a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what the other is thinking and saying about you. I’ve had all sorts, the ones that trashed your very name and the ones that sobbed to your appreciation. This one, i think is probably saying ‘it’s only a rough patch, we’ll pull through it’ That is, if he’s saying anything at all.

The one that gets dismissed usually tends to seek for reasons, and guilty parties other than themselves. They are more often than not, badly mistaken. But hey, why take responsibility, right? After all, if you push the fact that someone else is to blame long and hard enough, people might believe you.

The final stage doesn’t really show up until someone else comes into your life. After serious breakups, making up feels just as if you’re avoiding the fact that you’re done, and most often never gives off the same satisfaction as it did at first. but hey, some do try…

The point? Don’t go in if you can’t stay in. Keep it shallow, if you can, and don’t get involved unless it’s worth it. And from my point of view… sex is sex, and love is for other people.

The Bartender

It’s only fit that i open this blog with him.

I saw.
There were coffee stains, bikers and tight leather jackets. The girl had a tatoo, the man with the vacant eyes had to greet six people before sitting down, but i bet none of them really knew him.
I didn’t greet anyone but that was allright, since no one knew me either.
Couldn’t really help but think: dull weather. dull people. dull me.

The only things i felt were how bad the coffee was. how cold i was. how empty i, and everyone else were.
But that’s another kind of feeling.
We were all empty because we weren’t all really there.
Fake little robots, with conditioned brains, pre-determined actions, and complete ignorance, that’s what we were.
Awful little creatures, which strive to be unique. All of them are just as unique as everyone else.

And only one of us wasn’t blind.
Everyone else, the girl with the exhuberant smiles, the men talking about a silly old football match, the old man with the portraits, were fake.
I thought ‘you can’t take a portrait of someone and not notice them, now, can you?’… Wrong. He could. He did.
The drawing is smiling at me, in cheap charcoal lines. I don’t know that person… that couldn’t be me, i wasn’t even attempting a smile.
That lot was rotten blind from one end to the other.

One of us, however, was different.
At first, i only saw the way he moved, it seemed odd. It didn’t look rewinded. Then, i saw him smiling.
I remember wondering why the bartender was coming my way, though i hadn’t asked for anything. I found out.
He came my way because he saw a girl and a tear or two. And he braught along a box of chocolates.
No phone-numbers were exchanged, no idle romance, not many words. But it was, oh, so different.
I saw him there, and couldn’t believe it: not blind, not ignoring me. not only wanting to help, but there. A real person, really there. He wasn’t there because i asked him, he wasn’t there because he was scared i’d kill myself and spill blood all over the floors, he was just there.

Suddenly, i woke up in a real place. It was the same, only real. I didn’t feel like a shadow, i didn’t feel like i could pass through the floor,
it actually held up against my pushes. And i stopped thinking about the 50 pairs of eyes that ignored me, because of the one pair that didn’t.

I don’t know how to change things, i’m not as good as he. For all i know, that may have been the epitome of his existence. He may be dull, bland, a psychopath or a killer, he may be a real pessimist, or just as depressed and lonely as me, but he was my unlikely, unworthy, unexpected knight in shining armor.
And i’m thankful for every little detail of him.

Sergiu, this is to you, the only thanks i know how to give.

‘ Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Its not warm when she away
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
This house just ain’t no home
Anytime she goes away’

World, I hereby Welcome you to Me.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to be different from anyone else we know. Damn, it’s hard to start one of these things…

Who has something to say? Everyone does, but that’s unimportant… who has something interesting to say? The ones who do never bother to say it. I guess… it’s easyer to rant together. I’ve read rants on politics, science, education, and though we may someday dip into any of those categories, the main topic here is ‘rants on people’.

That’s right. You.

You who waste my time, you who abuse my knowledge, you who dump me on Valentine’s. All of you, with all the gory details… all of a sudden, i feel a tad Devilish. Deviant even. I might enjoy this.