Love, Desire and Devotion *

Love, Desire and Devotion: the three ingredients for the perfect relationship.

The keyword is “Love”. Love is great. Love is amazing. Love is lovely. Love is the acceptance of the other in the deep darkest corners of the soul. “I Love You” is real hard to say, harder when you want to and, in some way, for so many reasons, just can’t. “I Love You”: “I may hate/despise so many things about you (and the number can be considerable…) but, I accept you. Maybe I just don’t see your faults, or I just don’t want to”. Either ways, to finally love someone is a great progress and a huge learning process about yourself, your partner and all that’s in between.

The keyword is “Desire”: Wanting someone with ardent passion, needing someone like the next breath you just have to take, being madly obsessed by every smell, smile, look and touch, so much you tend to over breathe… Desire is sensuality at its purest sense. Desire is a killer, a damn good one too. You are Desire’s slave, happy slave that is. You are its bitch and scratch its every itch. Desire induces passion. Passion induces action. Action induces reaction. Reaction induces satisfaction. All induces Sex, wondrous sex, and sex makes the world (and you) go round…

The keyword is “Devotion”. Devotion is about truth, respect and sacrifices. It appears in the late stages of the relationship (usually before the ultimate break up). You anticipate every other’s need. You shape your entire life to perfectly fit your partner. You re-dream your wildest (most personal) dream to include your partner. You really don’t need any kind of explicit requests from your partner, you just create them, and this is where most people fuck up, by doing too much or simply more than expected. You drink the same water, feast with the same wine, smell the same shit.

Love, Desire and Devotion: You Surrender…*

* Title and Conclusion inspired by “Love Sensuality and Devotion” by Enigma and “Love Devotion and Surrender” by Santana

The girl with the other tune*

She stares at me. I have seen this face this near before, even nearer. I have known these reminiscing eyes. I have felt the warm breath coming thru her lips. I have smelled that mesmerizing perfume over my sweaty hands, over and over again. I have felt the lovely curves on the bottom of her back. I recall all that she was, all that she could have been, all that she isn’t, all she just couldn’t be, but, for a moment, I am what I so gladly were: happy. She’s sitting next to me, talking to me, trying to “connect” via some sort of casual inopportune conversation. I’m listening. I really don’t care what’s she saying, neither does she.

The keyword is “connection”. A simple basic connection is all I need, the kind that makes a mere look tell the story of her day, the kind that tells you when to kiss, the kind that makes a kiss stop for some air or just drive you both into utter sweet suffocation. Underneath all that is an obscure delicate communication.

The keyword is “communication”. Relationships are about communication. Communication is tricky. Relationships are trickier. Realizing that, how and why they are is the trickiest.

I thought we had that simple connection. Maybe she thought that too. At the start, what we had was pure bliss, “Oh! The sweet melody!”. “Too good to be true”, yes. Everything broke down so suddenly, so abruptly: One day, we just looked at each other and lost each other, no reason, no cause. And then, old excuses turn into lies, sweet feelings into illusion, “she has me” into “she used me”, love into hate and, slowly, hate into disinterest. After a while, in brief lapses of lucidity, you know all that she really was and wasn’t, why she did all that, why she didn’t, why she said all that and all that you, together, ever were. The melody doesn’t rime no more.

Yet, she is gazing at me like she ever so did before, ever so truthfully sweet. Why? I don’t really care. I take her hand. Our breaths halt, as if held by the load of our same memories. We move closer. Maybe we really are closer now…

* Title inspired by “The Girl in the other room” by Diana Krall

Party Attitude

So, you wanna go party? Have fun? Loosen out? Great. You phone your cute friends, put on your cute clothes, increase your head’s mass/IQ ratio with tons of gel, spray on some designer’s fragrance, wear that cute (and just darn deadly) smile and you are ready, baby!.
The key word is “cute”: “Oh, you are soooo cute!”, “Hey, my friend said you’re cute!, come on, ask her to dance”… all this to finaly (and hopefuly) land on the cutest girl/guy “in da club”.
The key word is “club”: A formal association of people with similar interests. Well, interests are: party, girls/guys, booze and eventualy scoring…
The key word is “score”: it’s all about the sex. Sex is what drives us all to these places, hey, sex may be only thing that drives us. “us” being the hyper-junky-common youth.
The key word is “common”: all party addicts have basicaly the common interests, desires, moods, moves and looks. The most perceptible and intriguing phenomenon is the feminine fashion statement, identical for most of the feminine club attendants: black top, jeans, belly, belt, heels. Under the dim lights and the dark “ambiance” of the clubs, girls are simply undistinguishable. I can’t recognize the girl I met unless she’s in a half meter radius or unless I feel her curves.
The key word is “undistinguishable”: people cultivate this unoriginality, this common grounds, this “party attitude”. This party world is a giant factory producing the same damn “model” over and over again commanded by a disorderly fashion. I seem to be more and more convinced that norms and conventions (mainly social ones) may be the worse thing to follow and to deal it.
The key word is “norms”: A standard or model or pattern regarded as typical. Maybe we all are alike, maybe all we live through and react to is the same, maybe we are all typically similar… I know I’m not, at least I just try not to be…

Just a mere moment

One day, for a mere moment, I find myself just thinking about myself: my origin; Do I have one?, my destination, my goals; Are am really going somewhere?, the girl I can’t seem to talk to and the girl that’s making my life a living hell, the lovely breeze of the awakening spring and the unbearable pollen allergy, the sweet taste of my first kiss and my last, the growing loud sounds of the day and the comforting redemption of the dark night…
The key word is “melancholia”: Extreme depression characterized by tearful sadness and irrational fears. This says it all.
The key word is “irrational”: Pain is for who seeks order and perfection where there is none for everything is chaos; chaos is in everything; and everything affects everything and does nothing. This is the causality. “Be Reasonable” when there is no reason for reason.
The key word is “causality”: effect and its causes. The effect is always perceptible. Causes are only apparent. Causes give a sense of basic-micro-simplicity in all events. Causes are irrelevant for their analysis come too late, and just on time for just some kind of comfort for the orderly soul…
The key word is “order”: Blessed is who can’t grasp this preponderant sense of order in everything. He saves himself much disappointments and time just to try to “make some sense to it all”.
The key word is “sense”: I am sensing the nonsense. I can try and analyze my past, but not my present and the future will always escape me.
The key word is “escape”: go!, run away from it all… you only have a moment…

The bullshit all around

Everything feels weird, yet unchanged: the same routine, the same people, the same experiences, the same feelings… Still, I can’t escape the uncertainty of all this, recurring in my thoughts every time I try to “get away from it all”. Seems “cliché”, so maybe I’m not the only one who feels this way and this can’t make it anymore bearable. The key word is “feel”: I am feeling. I am feeling this bullshit, this bullshit all around. Was it there before? Probably, but maybe I didn’t care. The key word is “maybe”: all is maybe, maybe rules all, your hopes, your dreams, your love, your pain, your screams, your life… but maybe can’t rule itself. That’s the beauty of it, that’s the bullshit of it. The key word is “beauty”: the beauty within, life is beautiful, you only have to know how to look to know, or maybe it’s all just bullshit. “Oh! You are so pessimistic! Wake and smell the roses!” The key word is “pessimistic”: yeah I am, but, in the end, who cares? Yes, there will be an end, an end to all this bullshit, you just have to wait and see. The key word is “see”: I can’t see who I am anymore. How can I see what’s all around? Yet, I feel it. Yet, I live it. yes, I do know it and maybe fail to represent it.
This is the bullshit all around, or maybe just, all the bullshit within. My experiences are unique, because they are mine, to keep, to hold, to cope with, and to confine to when there is nothing but so much bullshit. The key word is “bullshit”…