The Cheesiest Kiss

A few weeks ago, around 2:00 am, on the way from one bar to another, I stopped on the side of the street to talk to some strangers that seem like nice people. What are you guys doing tonight?
Among them, there was one boy that wasn’t scared of me. Well, he was quite drunk, and unaware of what he’s getting himself into.
What’s your name? I asked him.
When he told me his name was just as my Teddy Bear’s, I was l like awww that is too cute. I bet I am as huggable as your Teddy Bear. 🐻 I knew right there he’s not just a flirt, he also needs affection and, luckily, I like hugging people. The hug was long and honest. He smiled when our bodies separated and he leaned to my face to kiss me. And there I was, in the middle of the night, hugging a stranger and having two seconds to think my next step:
‘Ok, this is a complete stranger whom I can’t even tell if he’s hot or not, why should I kiss him? Think fast! Well, I wanted to kiss someone cute tonight, and none of the other guys got me in this weird but sweet situation. And he is indeed as huggable as my Teddy Bear! I will just kiss him and go!’ So I did.
Yes, I think that much and that fast per second and that is how I take most decisions in my life. No offense taken.
The kissing was really adorable. He just interrupted to tell me I am a good kisser and then we kept kissing like teenagers. I took the compliment well and paid it back nicely. Yes, I can be nice too.
Few minutes of good kissing went and my friends were already taking pictures of us and giggling about it. I won’t add it here as I trust you trust me it did happened. They say I kiss like in the movies and the pics are fun too. The paparazzi thing stopped our kissing and then we tried to exchange Instagram accounts, because yes, that’s what cool kids do these days. He said he will text me when he gets to the club we were all heading. He never texted me (although he did come to the club). I was a bit sad… But not as sad as the day after when I realized he did not even follow me back on Instagram. 💁🏻
I texted him. I mean give me a break, I was bored, curious and hungover that Sunday. Isn’t that what you would do? (probably not)
Why aren’t you following me back? I asked being original af.
He’s like I am at some event.
Fine, you don’t need to, I was just curious if you wanna keep in touch.  I thought I was funny but he didn’t laugh.
Yes, could be fun, he said.
Meh. Could be fun?! Are you kidding me, boy? Oh man, I am dealing with these boys forever and I am still surprised?!
But hey, people say I give up easily, so this time I didn’t! I told myself, he was super sweet and such a good kisser. So we texted a few times and also set a date. Coffee on next Sunday. Next Sunday came and he had a family thing so he canceled. Fine. Family comes first. Another week passed, another Sunday coffee date was set and he canceled again. I mean 2 weeks and 2 dates being canceled by this teddy-bear-name guy who promised me good coffee and a hand with my IKEA closet. I gave up. Sorry peeps, I tried.  But then another week went by and I got tired of seeing my Ikea closet unassembled so I texted him saying, ‘Hey, I know this sounds weird, but I really need someone to help me with my closet. We are neighbors anyways, so if you ever have time, just come over and help me. If not, it’s completely fine. 🙂
He said Ok and on the 3rd Sunday, he came. It took him like 5 minutes to fix my closet and that was pretty impressive. But I am over him today. So when he tried to kiss me again, I told him: Dude, I really wanted to see you again and you canceled me 2 Sundays. You kinda broke a piece of my heart. (Well I meant my ego, but that’s another talk). Did anyone break your heart? 
And there it was. The story of his girlfriend who is a nice girl with a lot of issues that decided to leave this sweet handyman to fix herself. I loved his story. It was honest, simple and sad. He was sad. I told him I would like to be remembered as a nice girl in many people’s minds and then he tried to kiss me. And there I was again in the arms of the same cute stranger from the street with only 2 seconds to think. Well you probably know what I did, right? I wanted to be nice. And I was for like 2 seconds. So I kissed him back. And that was cheesy as fuck – probably the cheesiest kiss I ever had – because this guy just had a four cheese pizza!!! Four!
I mean, don’t get me wrong, as much as I like a good story and cheese itself, I cannot taste it during a kiss.
That was all. I thanked him for fixing my closet, he thanked me for being mean and then he left.
Hope this brought a smile on your face and will make you think of kissing next time you have cheese 🙂
xx

Boy Meets Writer Girl

The boy loved her writings and wanted to know about who she really is. He wrote her a letter, introduced himself and started being e-friends. For a very long time, they only texted each other online. The beginning was promising: lots of flirting, excitement to get a text, curiosity, and many missing pieces in the puzzle. They did not know how they look like. Well, she kept it a secret. She thought if he is really interested in her, her looks don’t matter.

But one day they decided it is time to meet. Sunday morning by the Lakes.

I will wait for you holding a red rose on the stairs behind the planetarium, she said.

At 9 am the boy was heading the planetarium stairs to meet the girl that stole lots of his time in the last months. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw this beautiful young redhead woman coming towards him. She was wearing a silk green dress and eating strawberries. He went straight to her forgetting completely about the red rose.

Let me pass, she said with a slightly provocative smile.

Before saying anything, the boy sees behind her an older woman holding a red rose and waiting on the stairs. She was not the skinniest and her hair was greasy and grey. Her feet were heavy and hiding under a dark brown dress. The spring redhead girl was gone now. The boy looked back for her, but then his feeling for this woman were stronger and did not let him follow the pretty girl. The older woman was standing still. She was pale but seemed intelligent and her eyes were kind.

He tried hard not to show his disappointment and went to talk to her. After all, they had been sharing the most beautiful texts and probably some sexts too. He said hi and introduced himself.

Hi, you must be fixpink. I’m Joe, nice meeting you, finally. Can I buy you a coffee?

I don’t know what you are talking, son. The redhead girl gave me this rose and she said if you buy me a coffee I should tell you she is waiting for you inside that restaurant over there.

.

.

.

*Disclosure: the story is not mine. Heard it before in Romanian and adapted to my own little blog. If you find Joe and the real green dress girl, let them know they’re cool :)*

The Egg Story

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

–          What …what happened? You asked. Where am I?

–          You died, I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

–          There was a … truck and it was skidding…

–          Yup, I said.

–          I… died?

–          Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies. I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me.

–          What is this place? You asked. Is this the afterlife?

–          More or less, I said.

–          Are you god? You asked.

–          Yup, I replied. I’m God.

–          My kids… my wife, you said.

–          What about them?

–          Will they be all right?

–          That’s what I like to see, I said. You just died and your main concern is for your family.  That’s good stuff right there.

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar teacher than the almighty.

–          Don’t worry, I said. They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.

–          Oh, you said. So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?

–          Neither, I said. You’ll be reincarnated.

–          Ah, you said So the Hindus were right.

–          All religions are right in their own way, I said. Walk with me.

You followed along as we strode through the void.

–          Where are we going?

–          Nowhere, in particular, I said. It’s just nice to walk while we talk.

–          So what’s the point, then? You asked. When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.

–          Not so! I said. You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders.

–          Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had. You’ve been in a human for the last 58 years, so you haven’t stretched out and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here long enough you’ll start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.

–          How many times have I been reincarnated, then?

–          Oh, lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives, I said. This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.

–          Wait, what? You stammered. You’re sending me back in time?

–          Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.

–          Where you come from?

–          Oh, sure, I explained, I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly, you wouldn’t understand.

–          Oh, you said a little letdown. But wait, if I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.

–          Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.

–          So what’s the point of it all?

–          Seriously, I asked? Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?

–          Well, it’s a reasonable question, you persisted.

I looked you in the eye.

–          The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe is for you to mature.

–          You mean mankind?  You want us to mature?

–          No, just you. I made this whole universe just for you. With each new life, you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.

–          Just me? What about everyone else`

–          There is no one else, I said. In this universe, there’s just you and me.

You stared blankly at me.

–          But all the people on Earth…

–          All you. Different incarnations of you.

–          Wait. I am everyone?!

–          Now you’re getting it., I said with a congratulatory slap on the back.

–          I’m every human being who ever lived?

–          Or who will ever live, yes.

–          I’m Abraham Lincoln?

–          And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too, I added.

–          I’m Hitler? You said appalled.

–          And you’re the millions he killed.

–          I’m Jesus?

–          And you’re everyone who followed him.

You fell silent.

–          Every time you victimized someone, I said, you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done it to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.

You thought for a long time.

–          Why? you asked me. Why do all this?

–          Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You are one of my kind. You’re my child.

–          Whoa, you said, incredulous. You mean I am god?

–          No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing- Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time you will have grown enough to be born.

–          So the whole universe, you said, it’s just…

–          An egg, I answered. Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.

–          And I sent you on your way.

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Yes, I just wrote THE EGG story by Andy Weir just as it was written by me. Now you know it too and you can also read it in your language. 🙂

 

Don’t Talk About Sex During Dinner

Our generation has less sex than our grandparents’ and that’s because we can talk about it more than we will ever put in practice.

I never talked to my parents about sex. I barely talked about sex with anybody until I was far away from home and anyone who could judge me. During all this time of having a tabu subject, I established rules, fantasies, and principles. All for myself and the ones involved.

Time has passed and from amazing experiences to frustrations and relationships, I have slightly …changed. My rules found their exceptions. My fantasies found their reality and my principles got outdated. A few years ago I even asked my grandma when was the last time she and my beloved grandfather …banged. She laughed as that would be the very last question from me, but a very welcomed one from a friend.

– Four years ago, she whispered it.

She was in her seventies back then.

The other night I was at a dinner table with friends of friends and was making conversation with this guy next to me who I barely knew. After some small talk and a big glass of wine, he says very nonchalantly:

– I miss sex!

Oh, wow! Someone in my shoes, I immediately thought. I have to admit I was happy to hear him saying that. Suddenly I felt less alone on this planet. Someone else has as less sex as I am. The discussion escalated in describing times when he was having sex three times per day on the balcony, in the kitchen, or outside his building. Now he’s having a distance relationship and forced to wait for that time of the month…

– Oh, you know what I love doing? Oh, my God, I cannot tell you this…

– Tell me now!

Disclaimer: I wish I could’ve recorded his exact words because it was short, simple and on point: the way he would tease the girl so bad by ripping off her panties and leave. To the store or somewhere she could not see or touch him. Just for ten minutes. And by the time he would be back, she’ll be all over him. Mission accomplished!

Damn, boy! you’re good. Yes, he was a simple cute boy, and yes, I can relate plenty of girls would love a for-play like that. He asked me what sexy things I’ve done, what I would do and what do I like. I answered with the same nonchalance.

– I bet your birthday is in springtime, he commented afterwards.

– How do you know??!

– Because all the girls I had something with were born in spring.

I didn’t say anything more. I just backed off politely and pretended everything is normal. Problem is I can’t stop thinking how good that food was while having that conversation. But maybe was just the restaurant, right?

However, don’t do it at home, and especially not outside. You will get horny af and the next day at the office you will be extremely unproductive. 🙈

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#foodporn

 

The Way We Meet

You are really something. The things you’ve done, the places you’ve been, the people you’ve met… oh boy, the memories you’ve collected! You’ve been a nomad, a traveler, an Amazon, a rider, a storyteller. People tell you that you are ballsy, self-confident, courageous, daring…

But then you are also insecure, emotional, needy, dramatic and so on and so forth. Probably another reason you’ve been on Tinder or Inner Circle – the latest dating app I discovered while being too lazy to bike in this cold weather to any public place.

There are two types of people on dating apps: the ones who dedicate to one or two profiles at once and the ones who check other profiles while waiting for your replies having a constant fear of missing out. The first ones end up dating one of the profiles and ghosting – probably very politely – the other one. The second ones are hunters, restless, passionate, curious, nomads, people who have been living some shit, been heartbroken, rejected, ghosted and loved so many times they basically don’t give a fuck. Well not until their right buttons are triggered.

Swiping on the app your mind goes like:

Too serious.  Bad photo, dude.  Ugh.  Too pretty. And nothing else.  Weird. Too hippie.  Too short.  Too much of a close-up!!!  Too much! Too easy! Too sad.  Too old.  Ugly … those teeth!  Fat. Unconscious of himself. Arrogant. Materialistic… Too many of good old photos and just one recent where you can’t even tell what’s left of his youth. 

I know. We are judgemental. We think we have enough experience to know everything before even talking to each other. It’s a jungle.

No likes, no winks, no woofs, he just breaks the ice after a profile check:

Hey! I must say that I actually prefer your two pictures even more than pictures of pizzas from a menu – and I really love pizza 🙈

Haha, much appreciated! You should see my Snapchat bitmoji, it has my face on a pizza. Well, my head is having a pizza aura… damn, can’t show it here. But you get it.

Well, you are welcome. And that escalated quickly. I am actually not sure if I get it, but here is mine.

Only if you tell me the origin of that name

It’s an alias to my surname. My great-great-grand-dad was Polish.

…3 minutes pass and he freaks out. He says goodbye. 

You don’t want to feel like it was your fault and you engage in what it might be a better ending for a quite ok start of a conversation. You do a little bit of a small talk and hit them with a tricky question. You need their ideas. Make them think. Usually, they will think more about what you want to hear instead of what they would actually think.

Give me more. Give me a story.

Hmm… let’s see. How about a short story about the Crazy Polak from the Inner Circle? 😂 catchy. His urge and need to charm and leave an impression with this girl. 

You’re not impressed. not after having those stories too many times and yet another one wants to start. You roll your eyes. Literally with this emoji: 🙄 This will drag you down. Nobody likes that! He’s politely signing out.

Now, this is your second time pulling him back in. Because it’s weekend and this is the best shot you got to an interesting plot.

But you’re smart. You can do it. And who doesn’t love seeing you put down a bit or pretend you misunderstood his sarcastic tone. Then you are being honest and tell him what was really to blame: another guy texted you.

ok, let’s start over… tell me about that weird text.

Ohay, he obviously likes you for very little things now. He only saw two silly pics of you and forgave two stupid moves… But hey, why not push it a little bit forward and see how he reacts when you are telling him about the last guy you dated?  🙄

– If you’re gonna be weird too I am gonna call it with Polish guys 😂

– I am Danish though…

– Okaaay, fine.

Now you ask him for his phone number. Not because he passed all your texts but you are actually tired of opening this stupid app and want to make it easier for your fingers. If you are too blunt he will not give it to you and asks you why.

– Boy, I sounded bossy.

– Haha, you are bossy indeed. 😂

– I hate this app. It makes me mean. And rude. And it’s hard to text.

– You do seem a bit mean and rude actually…

Damn, you really like messing things up, don’t you? Apologise, God dammit! And be the nice guy – well girl – for once! You can even ask him to help you in that sense. He will say you can definitely find inspiration somewhere else for that. You can take a hint and let it go… you lost.

– A good girl… actually, good girls are often kinda boring 🙄 Nah…I am just trying to figure you out, that’s all. Complexity is a mouthful, but kinda interesting too…

Oh, look at that. He wants to figure you out. Well, let him have a taste. Tell him you will answer three of the most important questions for him to find that out. And you will be 100% honest. He will not ask anything complicated, but things you both know. People want confirmations though.

– Hmm… okay then, first question: You are a bit into yourself, right?

– Easy question. A yes or no one. And having a relative “bit” in it 😃 So yes, I think I am a bit into myself. And not necessarily because of my qualities, but because of 100 other reasons. Mostly my flaws made me look inside. And my failures.

– And you are a dominant creature based on fear of not fitting in?

– Hmmm… I do have the fear of missing out. I think I almost accepted the fact that I don’t always fit in and I shouldn’t struggle much about it.

– You easily get bored and then you seek a fix for an “interesting environment”?

– Yes.

Well done. You are a human to him now. He will like knowing you are a bit insecure, protective and careful. Now, it’s your turn. Show him you want to figure him out. He will say he is honest, sensitive and simple, but he likes complexity. And when he realizes that’s quite a short presentation, he will ask you to ask three questions about himself. You will ask him the following:

1. Who would you save from the end of the world?

2. What age would you prefer to die?

3. How many dates you think we’ll have?

He will be sweet and honest. And then you can open up to him for the last time (or maybe not):

I am actually saddened by the dating these days… How we behave, how we forgot the romance and how we are just being fake polite. We scroll. We check out. We judge. We imagine. We barely dare to talk. We talk random or too personal with all kinds of strangers. We meet. Once a month. Once a week maybe when we get bored and don’t feel like doing the same things. We don’t connect. We don’t even expect to. Because it’s been too long since the last time we did it. And maybe that last one wasn’t even real. Was mostly in our dreamy heads. Then we become so… wild we don’t even know how to behave. So we might pass on real people really easy…We wouldn’t even know.

He gives you his phone number now. You can continue there.

– What do you want? I asked him.

– What do I want? Now that is a huge question… I guess I want to find my future-fantastic-baby-mama…

– I kinda want pizza now… but then is it really worth it? (I feel like most of the people on these dating apps think like this haha).

– Buy a pizza then, easy!

– I am having cake now.

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With someone else…

Perfect Sunday Morning

She was half asleep when he came with coffee and French croissants, her favorite. It was one of those mornings when she was smiling over a good feeling about life. It was his first time in this apartment, but he knew exactly where the coffee cups are and how to get himself comfortable in the room’s window. She would look at him sunbathing and feel jealous he took her favorite seat. “But he brought croissants. He can sit there”, she was thinking while reaching for the coffee holding the sheet around her.
– Oh, I forgot to ask, how do you like your coffee? He asked with a slight concern she might want sugar…
– Just black. She smiled and took another sip of her coffee.
– Good. So he turned confident and silent into his world by the window.
He didn’t ask anything, nor did he analyzed her anyhow. It was like he wasn’t even there. But then she asked him a million questions to nihilate the awkward silence. So they talked about his passions, her dreams, his travels, her plans, his friends, her dad and his dentist. By the time she got dressed and ready to sit in her usual window spot, he moved on a chair and started looking at her.
– We haven’t seen each other for 1,5 years. I remember that day like it was yesterday.
– I don’t remember, he said.
– It was that day I was smiling with all my sides over some good news and when I heard you’re gonna be at that party, I came to see you.
He moved to bed, needed to stretch.
She stopped talking and started analyzing him. That bright smile, his baby face, messy hair, body, hands… perfect. And he’s so calm, confident, open-minded, steady, impenetrable and wise. Flawless. Out of her world.
– I wanna hold you for a bit, he invited her back into her own bed.
She had no idea what to do, nor what to say. Eventually, she mumbled her first thought:
– I don’t cuddle…I am scared.
He looked at her with his dark empty eyes and smiled like she was talking nonsense.
– Come here.
So she did. And for the next ten minutes, she would let herself feel different waves of energy, think miles away and be proud of overcoming another fear.
Few cuddles later, he said goodbye, and all she could think of was how curious is that this perfect loving man would make her miss the one guy who is completely his opposite.

Message In A bottle

I am not 21. I am not even 27… Probably by now you know how old I am and whatever you think it has a “damn” in it. No, pretty sure it’s more like a “Daaaaaaamn!”
Damn what?
Damn, girl, you don’t look like? Damn, aren’t you old for this shit? Damn, you don’t sound like it? Daaaaamn, girl, you’re a woman? Damn, are you gonna write this on your blog? 😮
I am probably asking myself these things more than you are, but I heard some really impregnated reactions lately so I couldn’t help thinking of…what you’re thinking 😛
The oldest (cool) guy I met down here is 29yo in papers, but not a day more than 21 in real life. He has to smoke weed, drink shit loads of beers and break his bones every day while surfing to make it. For some reason I get him and I even relate to him – except the surfing part – I like my body in one piece – and I am sincerely trying to quit drinking beer, though it’s way better in Australia than Europe!
This guy invented a game called “The girl of the week”. He would choose a pretty girl on the beach every week and collect the memories in between substances. This reminded of my first time… I was the girl of the week on a sunny beach for a hot guy who never called me afterwords. He did actually found me 4 years later in a bar and gave me his apologies  and a huge great reason. Since then I can’t trust a guy who plays this game, but surely it’s super fun when you’re on a beach for less than a week and make your fantasies come true.
❤ Also, it’s more memorable if you’re not doing it every week…
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Surfer Boy splashing me away
Some people have goals when it comes to relationships. And you’re like “who doesn’t?” but I am talking of the most “insignificant” relationships that actually last forever – even though it was just a fucking one night stand for the other side. Stories like this will always be remembered. We make them happen for our “bitch if you have” portfolio. We live them even more intense when turned on by the faces of those who will hear the stories. We do it for the most craziest reasons. Like “I saw that in the movie” or “I wanna write about this”.
But it gets tiring… I am pretty sure the old surfer had his dry weeks too. Long, white nights when looking at a ceiling and thinking what the hell is he doing with his life. Is this who he actually is? Does he love himself? And what about that girl? Is the girl from last week the one? Or maybe he will never find a girl like THAT ONE. I am talking about Sarah, that amazing bitch who gave him the best days of his life. The one girl who he can fuck for hours, days and weeks without being high. She was one helluva girl. But they both knew they are not meant forever…she wanted a career in the city, he was a dreamer and loved his wild life on the beach. Maybe it’s time he should compromise? Maybe he would be happier in her arms in a nice condo in Sydney right now?  Then he pictures their wedding and his parents’ faces full of joy and accomplishment. All their friends would be super fucking proud and drunk at the party of the year. Few years later they will have a kid and all he’s gonna teach him would be surf, skating and football. School is pointless anyway. Sarah did it for so long they have it for 2 generations. They’ll still be looking hot af and probably by then living in a nice house on the beach coast. Mmmm…now isn’t that something even you would dream of?
But then he opens his eyes, a beer and lights a joint. He’s miles away from her and that life. He doesn’t have enough money to move now to fucking Sydney, he hates the city and Sarah is probably seeing someone else right now. They haven’t talked in ages.
We get addicted easily to drugs and other vices. The individual recovery takes a lot of change of the society actually. We might be aware of our “small” addictions, but we what we are really addicted to is the society and its expectations. The moment we break out we might lose ourselves for a while… We live in a world where the most important connections we have is to the WiFi and transportation. Try to break those and survive! without alcohol. Auch…that life isn’t for everyone. We have suppliers instead of friends and lovers. We objectify people and have no idea what’s beyond their Facebook profiles or our chat windows. We are afraid of real human connections and probably immune to them, because when they’re knocking on our soul’s door we suddenly become busy and emotionally unavailable. Ah, where is my love dealer right now?? I need a dose…
It was my birthday the other day and all the good wishes made more sad than happy… One message got into my head though. It simply said:
“Stay Blessed!”
This made me be grateful for all the reasons I am extremely blessed: I am healthy, I look way younger than my age (even though I am like  40 in bunny years), I am free to do whatever I want, all my grandparents are alive and my mom is the most amazing woman I have ever met – she takes care of all of us. Also, because I found the place that gives me peace and I can call it home. The only thing that disrupts my happiness is the thought of this ending…just like every other thing you don’t fight for to make it last. Like the thought Sarah is not thinking about her beloved Surfer. That’s bullshit. I know for sure Sarah wishes the same things, but they they are on different paths and journeys at the moment. And stupidly normal, they both wait for each other 🙂
I am loved. By a few people who I should say thank you and I love you to more often… I don’t know how to express my love these days…so I will just say it here:
I FUCKING LOVE YOU!
…you, my family who for some weird reason are proud of me.
…you, my best friends who listen my shit, failures and successes.
…you, my friends who answer my stupid lazy queries.
…you, my ex-friends who I slept with but became very ungrateful, fyi: I will always cherish the good times!
…you, the men I will never have but dream of. Especially that Danish chef who doesn’t even know I exist (sigh)
…you, my fans who are invisible and extremely jealous, I love you even more for that!
and you… my future best lover, best friend and significant other. Dude, what are you doing right now? can’t you tell I am waiting for you here?
oh, and you too, freaking odd and old surfer! you are another version of me after all. Such a dreamer!
I write this for myself and those who I love. And even if I don’t know you (yet), I love you too. It’s a general state of mind this love I am sharing now. So…it’s like a message in a bottle. You never know if anyone is gonna read it, but you have the hope 🙂
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAMM8JVbr8g
ps: damn WP! is asking me to pay for upload a video! soon they will charge me for pornographic material… 😐