La-Vie-Enrose

Despite my life having more twists and sharp bends than a Chuck Palanhnuik novel, I want to believe in Happily Ever Afters and true love...and this today just seems appropriate. But pain, it seems to find me more often than not, and when it does, it makes me want to write. I wonder, secretly do I enjoy this pain so much, that i find it even though I don't even know that I am looking for it. I am not so sure.
Not today, and not so sure if I ever will be sure of it.

I pretend I don't care, that I am happy being alone
That i am not lonely, that in fact I hate Valentines Day and all the bullshit that surrounds it
those ugly red and white soft toys the cards that make you want to puke they're so awful
but today I realised, I actually am lonely
when the fuck did i get so lonely?
When did I start pushing people away?
And importantly, why?

'No I am not just talking about being in love!!' she exclaimed.

'I am talking about the all consuming, intoxicating, passionate, time freezing, euphoic high kind of love. The one that stops you from LIVING inside your own world and allows you to be inside another universe, someone elses universe, which suddenly becomes yours'. 'Yours and theirs'.

'One day it's just you and you're happy and then the next minute this being has just encapsulated your entire world and life, life suddenly becomes this grand journey of pure bliss, pure bliss you never even knew existed in this twisted world'.

And then you feel things that you cannot even put into words, and emotions and.....that's love, that is it' and it just makes you want to love them more than you have ever loved yourself, more than you have ever loved anything actually, she said whispering the last words to herself.

'and... you want to give them everything and more, and seeing them smile makes you smile and their tears become your tears' she said barely taking a breath in between each word.

'and wait'...she said, 'that's not all - Now that I have experienced it, felt it and know that it lives....I won't stop until I find it again. I won't settle for anything less. Once you have had a taste of real love, nothing else will do, and everything else is just compromise.' "Compromise I will not".

She looked over at him. His eyes glued to the ground, his hands in his pockets. Clearly he was hearing this? Was he? Had he switched off again? She didn't care. She wasn't about to stop until she had released every single word resting on her heart. She had been silent for long enough.

'So...' she said, walking over to where he was standing and lowering her tone to a barely audible one.

'Should anything stand between a love so powerful?' tell me? Should it?she asked. Deeply staring into his eyes, which had now looked up to meet her pleading gaze.

'Answer me?' 'I want to know' - she said

Should money or status or race or colour or country or anything stand in the way of something so magical and inexplanable? Should all those things matter more than the incredible intoxicating love two people feel towards each other?

Should anything stand in the way of love?

All is not what it seems

So I have this tendency to date / like / gravitate towards utter douchebags that look like they just crawled out of a Motley Cure video clip. They think it's cool not to shower and or change their clothes. They like to live in dumpsters otherwise referred to as bedrooms and drink copious amounts of alcohol because let's be honest, a bottle of Jack is as good a accessory to a rockstar's image as a poodle is to Paris Hilton's. They claim to do it for their love of 'music' but can't wait to get home after their gig and discuss how many -women- swooned - over - them, or how many hot new followers they have on twitter. What happened the feeling uplifted because you just played an awesome set? Hello - isn't this all about the beats? Not how many girls you can bed?  They flaunt and upload their photos / videos and selfes on every social media site there is and yet claim they want to reamain 'unknown and underground' really? I mean at least pull a Gene Simmons and say you're in it for the screaming women.

I don't think Kurt Cobain ever cared about how many views he had (if any) do you? No I didn't think so. Oh and of course the image, where they are non-conformists and don't really care what they wear, yet again they take three hours in front of the mirror to prepare their 'image' before a gig, because it is all about the 'image' after all....that's a hell of a lot of time for someone who doesn't have ten minutes to spare for a shower and or change their clothes when they are not in front of an 'audience'.

I locate these pieces of 'work' and have my first date, although is does not turn out to be what I play out in my brain prior to the date. You see, prior to the actual date, I give them a personality, I automatically assume they are going to be funny, intelligent, and laugh at my jokes and actually understand my jokes or even respond to them with under ten seconds. I pre-empt the conversations we are going to have in my head, the texts and the following witty emails that will go back and forth. All of this seems so perfect and idyllic until reality comes crashing in like a bucket of ice being thrown over my head and I quickly realise in reality this person actually doesn't exist outside of your brain.

In reality the one gazing into your eyes with what seems like admiration is actually thinking about how you would just stop talking for a minute. How what you are saying sounds utterly crazy (and perhaps you are - after all - you have made up a fictional character in your mind).
He doesn't actually get your jokes, let alone be able to throw them back at you, like say a 'attentive' person would. He doesn't get your sense of humour and at all doesn't really realise that you are trying to be funny in order to lighten up what would in reality be an awkward date. He doesn't realise that if you did shut up for a mere minute, the conversation would be dry because this particular person or persons as you would like to call them have great difficulty discussing anything that does not involve them, their grand musical ability and or chords, riffs or notes. And that strumming of the guitar that you found so soothing in the first ten minutes suddenly starts to sound like fingernails on a chalkboard, scratching the insides of your ear drums, you feel like they're going to implode and all you can actually think about is the sheer delight of tearing that thing out of his hands and smashing it off the closest wall just to get come peace and quiet and perhaps a human conversation, why are you here again? To listen to him play? Could I not have pressed play on my itunes and allowed John Mayer to soothe me as I spoke to myself? and saved myself this trip, this outfit, this makeup (which he has not seen, because he hasn't looked up from his guitar the whole time you've been here) and, of course these effing shoes which are causing me blisters, because I had to walk halfway across town to meet him at his place because he was too hung over to leave home - despite having this date planned for a week, he still went out until dawn this morning. What a great start to a first date. So much effort from the man you thought was a grand gentlemen and would do anything for you. This isn't twilight, this is reality girlfriend.


All is not what it seems. You leave feeling utterly defeated, 20% dumber and 80% deaf in one ear, because you have worked really hard for the past hour trying to drain out the noise of those strings and your own voice has slightly given you a migraine.

These uber hot dudes.....rude awakening they are not what they seem. Unless you're a mirror, then, well then, they will look at you with love and admiration. x