Cripples pt. II

I want to thank you for the few (private) messages I got after the last post. Though I'm afraid some of you were too hasty and didn't read the last sentences... I would like to publicly announce that I'm fine. And not the lie fine, just regular fine. I find it interesting how worried some people can get when I tell them that I just don't feel it right now.

I hope it has something to do with my personality and not with society. Being an old-maid should be a lot cooler these days than a couple of decades ago. I'll be damned if I have friends who thinks I should force it just because. It shouldn't be that alarming if I'm not into the opposite sex (or same sex, or sex in general) right now. We're back to the Disney-aspect of a woman's life: our life mission is to find the prince. And there's just so much more to life than that. At least I'd like to think so.

When I was writing the last post I was thinking the whole time "I had more to say, what was it". Because I couldn't remember the post ended up to be pretty... amputated. Few hours after that I found my notes. Here's what I had written down, and I'm not gonna explain them more because... what's the fun in that.

He did have an impact on me/my life. Why am I not allowed to mourn that? Why do we have to be brave and pretend not to be vulnerable? I wouldn't be sad if I hadn't liked him, and what's the point of being with someone if you don't like them. I mean, that's why I got dumped.

"Dreams can make you happy if you really let them."

"We can make the world go wrong."

"Words are very unnecessary, they can only do you harm."

How much potential wasted? How many singers, sirens, songwriters, poets? Because they are too afraid to be on stage or they can't read, ect?

Literally start to smell the roses.

"Make sense, not love."

"I'm alive, but I'm alone."

Women watch romantic comedies like it's porn.

Once I was innocent.

Miscarriage is like a breakup.

There might be more than you believe.

What is your superpower? What would you want your superpower to be? What would it be based on your character as a human being? Is there a difference between those two?

There's a mellow word inside myself.

"Open your eyes and you'll see: your eyes are open."

Solitude.

Some of those might not make any sense, but that's what you missed because I'm not an organised person.

It's 7am and I'm listening to my newly-made playlist of 00's hits. I want to link you a song from that list, but I think linking Paris Hilton's Stars Are Blind might be a bit too cruel. Even Crazy Frog would be kinder. So this is the blast from the past you deserve:

Cripples

You know the feeling when you're supposed to do like a million things, but you can't start even a single one? And the more you think how much you should do and how little time you have, the less you get done? Yea, I'm in that place. It's First World Problems, I know. I lack motivation in every area. I failed my last module and I should rewrite it, but the thought of failing it again cripples my fingers on the keyboard. This was my first fail in university and I managed to graduate as a bachelor before this happened. It'll be an avalanche if I don't get this done, and I know that, but still I can't start writing. My body is a cage, and so is my mind.

My motivation is not the only thing crippled. I think the last adventure with the heart was the last drop. Not the final drop, just the last for the time being. Inside my ribcage it's numb and quiet. Silence that I haven't heard in years. It's not only that "i don't feel like it", it's that I don't feel it. He was the thing that broke the camel's back. He left me speechless.

But where does the brokenhearted, the damaged souls, the cripples, go? Where can they find people who understand, who wants to be there for you as much as you'll be there for them? Where you can find same-minded people, the ones who won't judge you based on your looks, your mannerism, what do you do in life, how old you are, or what you're supposed to be? Where can you find people who have scars and wounds, who are special, disabled and lame, just like you?

No idea actually. We're all individuals so I doubt there are people who knows exactly what you're going through. I get my peer support from the guild in World of Warcraft, you have to find your own place. It felt like returning home after a long time of adventures. It was weirdly natural to take my place as the guardian of the mailbox again. Being with old and new friends warms my heart. My icy cold, rejecting and judging heart. Outside world is too cluttered for me right now.

If this world hasn't taught me anything else, it's that none of us are free. We're all crippled with fears, prejudices, our bodies, our mind that thinks too much or doesn't think at all. Some of us are unable to love and some of us love too much. We think we can't do the things we want to do or be the person we would like to be, because of a seed of doubt in our mind. How long do you have to keep repeating to yourself that you're a good person and you deserve good things until you start to believe it?

I wish I had more words, more witty blogposts, more energy, more love, more heat, just overall more to give, but I don't. What I have is a broken keyboard, no money, a messy apartment, weird sense of humour and a thirst for chocolate. But I can share from those, any takers?

The song of the day could be any of the ones in cursive, but because there are no words, let the song be without them too.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's good to be silent, good to be without words. Maybe then I can hear the rythm, hear a beat of a heart. I just need to listen carefully.

So let us have a moment of silence for the passing winter. Let the spring come.

The balls of a woman were mine

The thing with successful blogging is consistency and I don't really have it. Also my keyboard is sticky even after cleaning it so writing hasn't been a priority lately. I've been scheming with three different topics but haven't come to any conclusion on what should I write. So I will write about all of those three. In one post. Bare with me. And hopefully this will make up for the long silence.

I've worn only few different perfumes in my life. I started with vanilla, changed it to the smell of fresh seawind, then I got a bottle of Chanel and I haven't looked back since. Until few weeks ago I bought some cosmetics and the clerk gave me a sample of a new perfume. I tried it and it smelled nice so I wore it one day. It felt so weird to smell like something else, like I was someone else. It's not so odd changing shampoo, I don't have to smell like kids chewing gum all the time, but when the strongest fragrance is different than I'm used to, I keep hearing in my head the lyrics of a song "the scent of a woman was not mine".

When I was still in England, I was kinda bored at some point. I already knew at that point I was coming back home soon so I decided to see the meat market in Finland and I changed my location in Tinder to home. I found this funny guy and he found me. We chatted for three weeks before I finally landed in the same country. We met the very next day I had arrived which was a bit weird because I was crashing at my ex's couch the first week. I got keys to my new apartment in the beginning of February but because of many reasons, I wanted to come home sooner. England was not kind to me.

The first date went well and so did many after that. When we didn't have time to meet and the days passed, it felt hard and we both missed each other. Or so he said. One day little less than a month into dating I had been sick and we finally met on a Sunday. He was a bit cranky but nothing serious. The next day he sent me a message in the morning that maybe it's not wise for us to meet that day since he needs time to think things over. Later that day he sent me another message asking if I was at home. I said I was and he asked if he could call me. Oh fuck here it comes, was my initial thought and I was right. He started the phone call by "I don't wanna do this over the phone, but...". He lives 20 minutes away and he decided to dump me on the phone.

That phone call didn't last long, mostly because my phone decided I didn't want to hear what he had to say. After he couldn't hear me, but I could hear him, I sent him a message saying that he shouldn't call me back because there's nothing more to say. If he's just not that into me, then he isn't. Not much I can do or say to change his mind. I know I'm great and if he didn't see him, it's sad but not fixable. My girlfriends thought it was ball-less to dump me over the phone, but I reduced his sentence by giving him credit for saying it straight. At least he had the guts to tell me that he didn't want to see me anymore. I've never been really dumped before and I appreciate this experience as well as other ones in my life. Now I know how it's like. I should've talked with him more than "We're too different" because now I'm obsessing about what went wrong, did I do something and such. I guess that's given with all break-ups.

I don't think we were too different, but I guess he was looking for something else. And he did have balls, I can vouch for that. I saw them, and they felt nice. The only problem I really had was the way he commented his... well, the thing right next to the balls. It wasn't huge, yes. But he knew how to work it and I'm going to miss being naked with him. But I miss being naked with many other guys too so I think I can live with this longing. It's reassuring to know there really is good sex out there and it's not just a myth or imagination.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about how we are so worried when we're young about the first time we're gonna have sex. We're worried about losing our virginity and we still wonder how the first time affects our lives. We spend a lot of time thinking about our old mistakes and regretting bad sex we've had. But how often do we stop to think when is going to be our last time we have it. What if you died to day, how was your last time? What is going to be your final fuck? If I died right now, I could go knocking on the gates of heaven (or maybe it would be hell) happy about the fact that my final fuck was worth to remember for at least few first decades of eternity.

I was supposed to round up a collage of pictures for all the smoochies out there for valentine's day but I was too busy dating. Now I regret that the time passed and I have so many of them saved and I missed my chance. If I'm still writing a blog next year, the collection will be huge so you better start preparing for it already. Someone once said that my blog is hard to read with all the quotes in between, but I like them and I'm not going to change it. Though I was thinking of doing a vlog instead of blog at least once. Right now my new place is not properly staged for that so it has to wait until I'm fin(n)ished furnishing.

Just few weeks I was complaining to my friends that I have too much free time in my hands and that I should maybe get a hobby. Today was my only day off from work and I spent it by stopping by the university in three offices and checking my emails at home. I ended up putting post-it's on my wall so I can remember all the things I should do. It's busy at work and I have four essays to write before summer. Plus all the other things like going to museums, theatre, parties, to see standup... After being dumped I found myself in a weird situation that there's nothing going on in my lovelife. I don't like anyone and I'm not even really interested in anyone. Which is a good thing, because I don't have time for any of that love-crap! Who has time for dating when there's work (that I love to do), studying (that I love to learn) and fixing up my (new fabulous bachelorette) pad. It's about time I focus on myself, and mr. Small-balls gave me the opportunity to do so and I thank him for that.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just not desperate enough for dating. I don't appreciate everything and the older I get the harder it gets to change for someone else. I might sleep with people, but I don't spend the night with them. And I think that bothers some of the people I've been dating in the past couple of years. I like the way I do things, and of course that is the right way to do things. I'm set in my ways and I'm not so keen on having just anyone in my life to make compromises. I think that's why the getting dumped part hurt me this much because I was slowly getting ready to give in, maybe quit smoking and sleep over and such.

I once chatted with this israeli guy over the wonderful world of internet, and he was sure we should be together. He was like a decade younger than I am and we were in different countries. As tempting the idea was, it was also ludicrous. He was talking about moving to where I am just after few weeks of chatting and never meeting me in person and that reeks desperation. I am willing to make sacrifices and maybe for some guy I would be willing to move to another country, but not that easily. For the perfect guy I would be willing to overlook weird stuff and give up some of my weirdness, but that guy hasn't yet walked past me. Or maybe he has and I have been too busy with the wrong guy, who knows. Over all it's a whole mess. And despite the whole mess, I'm still happier than ever. I think for me happiness is being productive, helpful and needed. And life is offering so much of that right now. Thankfully.