Supposedly, men are dicks and they are promiscuous, they want to fuck as much women as they can, and women are monogamous, they want one faithful partner. Of course, that is just the ideology and the way things work has nothing to do with it.
As things go, the very opposite might make more sense. I know you think this is nonsense, but i’ve got a very good explanation!
(This is for Daria. I got your letter. I’ll also reply in paper. But this belonged here.)
Under the skin we are all the same red sh1t, but still we all pretend to be so special, we all pretend to be these beautiful snowflakes, when (if we dared to admit it) we are all just alone.
And in turn this means we all just want a hug, we just want to be loved, but since we can’t we try all sort of dumb stuff, like getting ultra-rich and super-famous and über-sexy and extra-learned, as maybe ways to be loved, and it all backfires monstrously and we get eco-catastrophe, consumerism, plastic surgery and Maffesoli.
The most precious thing in life is the fleeting, vaporous, light moment when we can see the world through the same eyes as someone else, when we are really together, when we share a thin slice of meaning with another person. But the world seems made in a way to spoil and destroy this shared meaning. Read More »
The other day i saw again the most beautiful woman in the world, after quite many years, and she was wearing Louboutins. I am so glad that she kept herself beautiful! At some point i actually said she was the most beautiful woman in the world and she was curious. I was just an admirer-from-afar and had no intention to make any approach, but i guess the very statement is an approach anyway, and this kinda sux couse, like, you can’t compliment people for free, you have to carry the burden of the assumed further intentions even if none exist, and gentle compliments are so soothing for the soul!, but anyways, what i meant to say is that i have to live with this terrible piece of information: i had a chance with the most beautiful woman in the world and i missed it.
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Quero te pedir uma coisa.
Um último pedido de alguém que, você mesma admitiu, ou pareceu admitir, não te importa muito.
Queria te pedir que me odiasse. Eu te dei um pé na bunda, afinal, eu te mandei passear, fui eu e não você que deixou claro que o meu corpo já não está mais à sua disposição.
Pois veja que esse seu papo mole de que eu sou tão fofo e especial, de que você tem certeza que vou encontrar alguém, esse papo é tão escroto quanto uma demissão com desejos de boa sorte. Read More »