I find myself pondering on the importance of love yet again. Along the years I seem to have gone through so many stages of it. However, what it all comes down to is our selfish need for love.
The questions is whether it is more important to love or to be loved.
If we admit to ourselves one of the needs above, our lives really should become easier. I doubt that there can be a perfect balance in any relationship. One will always love more than the other.
And unless we figure out and admit to ourselves where we want to stand in a relationship, we will always be in danger of contributing to our own unhapiness and frustration by expecting both.
I for one, need to love rather than be loved in return. If I am, I'll take it as a bonus. But no matter how great the love of my partner for me, I find it close to impossible to stay in a relationship where I no longer love with the same passion. As long as I do feel passionately (and blindly) about the other person, I can take anything that is thrown at me, finding confort in my own feelings and the loyalty and dedication I sustain, even singlehandedly.
Monday 22 December 2008
Friday 19 December 2008
Regrets
I regret the things I haven't done when I had the chance.
I don't regret anything I have ever done.
It's all part of who I've become.
I don't regret anything I have ever done.
It's all part of who I've become.
Thursday 18 December 2008
And The Smell Lingers On
He leaves but his smell remains.
I smell my hands and they smell of him.
I smell of him and he of me.
I smell my hands and they smell of him.
I smell of him and he of me.
What Is It that Makes the World Go Round?
Is it money?
Is it ambition?
Is it inertia?
Is it love?
What is love?
How do you know you are in love?
What is the difference between being IN LOVE and LOVING someone?
Where does it all come from?
When?
Why?
Is it ambition?
Is it inertia?
Is it love?
What is love?
How do you know you are in love?
What is the difference between being IN LOVE and LOVING someone?
Where does it all come from?
When?
Why?
The Spirit of Christmas
I have noticed that in the last couple of years, Christmas has acquired the nasty habit of creeping up on me.
I checked my snail mail a couple of days ago (after 6 weeks) and discovered it was filled with Christmas cards from friends. My first thought was that they're all a bit hasty with these things. I like to imagine that people get my cards right before Christmas, not weeks ahead of it. I have it all planned very carefully... I will buy the cards, write a long traditional Christmas letter, send them just in time for them to be received as close as possible to the 25th of December.
But hold on... 25th December is in... 7 days!!! Shit! Again I am late. Those people were not crazy sending the cards when they did. They're thoughtful. But what does that make me?
There used to be a time when I sat down and wrote letters, birthday cards, Christmas and Easter cards, I sent the traditional spring tokens (Martisor) and generally kept up to date with correspondence and with friends who were farther than just one phonecall away.
I have to ask myself now if e-mail and online chats have actually ruined communication rather than improve it. Am I relying on the Internet as a safety net for situations like this, when I postpone traditional communication until it's too late? Is it a safety net, or a trap? Has it ruined, among other things, the Spirit of Christmas?
Christmas used to be about gathering families around a bountiful table, about going to church, about carols, about cathing up with friends and about sharing. Now it seems to be about glamour, about chasing gifts, about finding the easiest, fastest way to fulfil what has turned into a chore rather than a series of gestures aimed at making the people you care most about feel loved and remembered.
For years now, I have been criticising my mother for all the trouble she goes through to make every single Christmas or Easter special, unique, yet traditional. I just couldn't see the point of her spending days on end in the kitchen, preparing complicated and time consuming dishes and cakes (almost always the same ones). All this for some uncles and aunts who would just come over, sit their arses down and stuff their faces while she buzzes in and out of the kitchen bringing more and more in, doing the dishes and further exhausting herself to near death. The whole house would be decorated, the table lit by candles. Christmas carols would be playing in the background and sometimes my mother would even sing along herself. She would never eat until all the guests had gone. I kept asking myself why she (or indeed anyone) would do this at all. Where was the pleasure and enjoyment in slaving away on Christmas Day? I have been suspecting her of masochism all along.
But now I have to ask myself. If that is not what you're supposed to do at Christmas, what are you supposed to do? Buy ready-made food and watch TV? How would that make it Christmas in this case? Isn't my mother's way the right way? Has she finally won the battle of making me understand? (God knows she's been trying for 28 years!! I suppose it was about time...) Is this her legacy?
So again, I ask myself, have we all become too lazy to celebrate Christmas the way we used to? Is Christmas just for children who still believe in Santa? Is this what the constant rush of modern times has turned us into?
Techology and evolution is meant to make our lives easier, of course. But what if it has simplified our lives to the extent that it has bared us of feelings and deprived us of the simple things from which we used to derive the greatest joy before? Is comfort worth trading for in this case?
I checked my snail mail a couple of days ago (after 6 weeks) and discovered it was filled with Christmas cards from friends. My first thought was that they're all a bit hasty with these things. I like to imagine that people get my cards right before Christmas, not weeks ahead of it. I have it all planned very carefully... I will buy the cards, write a long traditional Christmas letter, send them just in time for them to be received as close as possible to the 25th of December.
But hold on... 25th December is in... 7 days!!! Shit! Again I am late. Those people were not crazy sending the cards when they did. They're thoughtful. But what does that make me?
There used to be a time when I sat down and wrote letters, birthday cards, Christmas and Easter cards, I sent the traditional spring tokens (Martisor) and generally kept up to date with correspondence and with friends who were farther than just one phonecall away.
I have to ask myself now if e-mail and online chats have actually ruined communication rather than improve it. Am I relying on the Internet as a safety net for situations like this, when I postpone traditional communication until it's too late? Is it a safety net, or a trap? Has it ruined, among other things, the Spirit of Christmas?
Christmas used to be about gathering families around a bountiful table, about going to church, about carols, about cathing up with friends and about sharing. Now it seems to be about glamour, about chasing gifts, about finding the easiest, fastest way to fulfil what has turned into a chore rather than a series of gestures aimed at making the people you care most about feel loved and remembered.
For years now, I have been criticising my mother for all the trouble she goes through to make every single Christmas or Easter special, unique, yet traditional. I just couldn't see the point of her spending days on end in the kitchen, preparing complicated and time consuming dishes and cakes (almost always the same ones). All this for some uncles and aunts who would just come over, sit their arses down and stuff their faces while she buzzes in and out of the kitchen bringing more and more in, doing the dishes and further exhausting herself to near death. The whole house would be decorated, the table lit by candles. Christmas carols would be playing in the background and sometimes my mother would even sing along herself. She would never eat until all the guests had gone. I kept asking myself why she (or indeed anyone) would do this at all. Where was the pleasure and enjoyment in slaving away on Christmas Day? I have been suspecting her of masochism all along.
But now I have to ask myself. If that is not what you're supposed to do at Christmas, what are you supposed to do? Buy ready-made food and watch TV? How would that make it Christmas in this case? Isn't my mother's way the right way? Has she finally won the battle of making me understand? (God knows she's been trying for 28 years!! I suppose it was about time...) Is this her legacy?
So again, I ask myself, have we all become too lazy to celebrate Christmas the way we used to? Is Christmas just for children who still believe in Santa? Is this what the constant rush of modern times has turned us into?
Techology and evolution is meant to make our lives easier, of course. But what if it has simplified our lives to the extent that it has bared us of feelings and deprived us of the simple things from which we used to derive the greatest joy before? Is comfort worth trading for in this case?
Wednesday 17 December 2008
The Right Smell
I have recently debated a friend's theory concerning the influence of women's toe length on their sexuality. Traian (http://traianracu.blogspot.com) was claiming that by coincidence or not (?) the women who gave him the most pleasure between sheets had the second toe (counting from the inside of the foot) longer than the big toe. He was implying that such women were better at 'it' or enjoyed it more and thus made their partner feel better too.
I am notoriously debating anything withstanding debate at all, so I couldn't help myself but comment. I won't bore everyone (including myself) with the arguments yet again. However, during a conversation with another friend earlier this evening, I have reached a theory of my own regarding smells, with which I will indeed insist on boring you.
A few years ago I saw a documentary on Discovery about a study/experiment in a German university campus. The basics were the following: a number of volunteer students (male and female) were asked to wear the same T-shirt for a week (day and night) and shower only once a day during this time, with an odourless soap provided by the organisers. They were not to use any other cosmetics during that week. At the end of the week, each T-shirt was given a number and each participant had to choose one T-shirt (belonging to someone of the opposite sex) based solely on smell. The outcome was that most of the volunteers chose the T-shirt of the person whose genetics matched theirs best out of the whole group. The couples thus formed would have had the best genetic material in order to produce the healthiest children.
Of course the experiment was lengthy and its results likewise, but this was it in a nutshell. Why am I writing this here? Because I then realised that I had been already applying this theory all my life. There are people to whom I am instantly attracted if I smell them (and rest assured, I can distinguish between aftershave/perfume and a person's own smell) and likewise there are people who lose any trait of sexuality in my eyes if the smell is wrong. I am not talking about BO or any other bodily odours which shouldn’t normally be present in a hygienic person anyway. I refer here to a person’s innate and very unique skin odour. For lack of better comparison elements, some people smell similar to a newly born, some smell similar to a corpse. These are the extremes, of course, but enough to represent my meaning here.
Even someone’s sweat can on some level be attractive (sexy) or repulsive (disgusting, makes-me-wanna-throw-up sort of thing). However, if someone constantly smells of BO or doesn’t change their underpants daily, they automatically become a no-no due to my respect for hygiene and reluctance to its opposite, no matter how sexy their sweat may seem initially.
Those who smell ‘good’ to me, will probably smell ‘bad’ to another. My argument here is that smell is part of nature’s aids in fulfilling its supreme purpose: self-preservation and regeneration. If indeed we choose ideally matched partners from the genetics point of view based on smell, this assures, on some level, that the species is perpetuated by the mating of the most genetically suited partners for the ‘job’. Maybe we are closer to the behaviour of animals than we think and maybe our ‘free will’ is not so free after all.
I am not leading a scientific enquiry, nor do I set out to win an argument. I am simply stating my opinion and experience. So I can say that I am personally extremely influenced by this sensorial aspect of human life, sometimes consciously and sometimes unknowingly. I have found myself having sexual thoughts about guys I had known for ages and never considered potential partners, just because once I was close enough to smell them and that changed my whole perception and activated an instant sexual attraction to that person. Also, people whom I ‘fancied’ from a distance completely turned me off and made me wonder what the hell I saw in them in the first place after they were close enough for me to perceive, knowingly or unknowingly, their personal smell.
Maybe the term I have used above is wrong. Maybe smell isn’t what I perceive. Maybe it is pheromones or anything else a human’s body might give off. My point is that it somehow scares me that it (whatever ‘it’ is) has this sort of influence on my decisions and behaviour, even taken to the extreme, when someone smells so good that I find I am practically throwing myself at the person shortly after we’ve met. On the other hand I suppose I am grateful for it, because it is a sixth sense allowing me to sort potential partners and it functions as what may be called ‘gut feeling’.
Of course decisions in relationships will be mainly influenced by reason and feelings from then on, but that first encounter with the other’s aura of smell has never failed me. I have always discovered later in the relationship that the best sexual experiences (compatibility) were with those whose smell I could inhale for minutes on end without tiring and the worst with those whose warning smell I had chosen to ignore.
I am notoriously debating anything withstanding debate at all, so I couldn't help myself but comment. I won't bore everyone (including myself) with the arguments yet again. However, during a conversation with another friend earlier this evening, I have reached a theory of my own regarding smells, with which I will indeed insist on boring you.
A few years ago I saw a documentary on Discovery about a study/experiment in a German university campus. The basics were the following: a number of volunteer students (male and female) were asked to wear the same T-shirt for a week (day and night) and shower only once a day during this time, with an odourless soap provided by the organisers. They were not to use any other cosmetics during that week. At the end of the week, each T-shirt was given a number and each participant had to choose one T-shirt (belonging to someone of the opposite sex) based solely on smell. The outcome was that most of the volunteers chose the T-shirt of the person whose genetics matched theirs best out of the whole group. The couples thus formed would have had the best genetic material in order to produce the healthiest children.
Of course the experiment was lengthy and its results likewise, but this was it in a nutshell. Why am I writing this here? Because I then realised that I had been already applying this theory all my life. There are people to whom I am instantly attracted if I smell them (and rest assured, I can distinguish between aftershave/perfume and a person's own smell) and likewise there are people who lose any trait of sexuality in my eyes if the smell is wrong. I am not talking about BO or any other bodily odours which shouldn’t normally be present in a hygienic person anyway. I refer here to a person’s innate and very unique skin odour. For lack of better comparison elements, some people smell similar to a newly born, some smell similar to a corpse. These are the extremes, of course, but enough to represent my meaning here.
Even someone’s sweat can on some level be attractive (sexy) or repulsive (disgusting, makes-me-wanna-throw-up sort of thing). However, if someone constantly smells of BO or doesn’t change their underpants daily, they automatically become a no-no due to my respect for hygiene and reluctance to its opposite, no matter how sexy their sweat may seem initially.
Those who smell ‘good’ to me, will probably smell ‘bad’ to another. My argument here is that smell is part of nature’s aids in fulfilling its supreme purpose: self-preservation and regeneration. If indeed we choose ideally matched partners from the genetics point of view based on smell, this assures, on some level, that the species is perpetuated by the mating of the most genetically suited partners for the ‘job’. Maybe we are closer to the behaviour of animals than we think and maybe our ‘free will’ is not so free after all.
I am not leading a scientific enquiry, nor do I set out to win an argument. I am simply stating my opinion and experience. So I can say that I am personally extremely influenced by this sensorial aspect of human life, sometimes consciously and sometimes unknowingly. I have found myself having sexual thoughts about guys I had known for ages and never considered potential partners, just because once I was close enough to smell them and that changed my whole perception and activated an instant sexual attraction to that person. Also, people whom I ‘fancied’ from a distance completely turned me off and made me wonder what the hell I saw in them in the first place after they were close enough for me to perceive, knowingly or unknowingly, their personal smell.
Maybe the term I have used above is wrong. Maybe smell isn’t what I perceive. Maybe it is pheromones or anything else a human’s body might give off. My point is that it somehow scares me that it (whatever ‘it’ is) has this sort of influence on my decisions and behaviour, even taken to the extreme, when someone smells so good that I find I am practically throwing myself at the person shortly after we’ve met. On the other hand I suppose I am grateful for it, because it is a sixth sense allowing me to sort potential partners and it functions as what may be called ‘gut feeling’.
Of course decisions in relationships will be mainly influenced by reason and feelings from then on, but that first encounter with the other’s aura of smell has never failed me. I have always discovered later in the relationship that the best sexual experiences (compatibility) were with those whose smell I could inhale for minutes on end without tiring and the worst with those whose warning smell I had chosen to ignore.
Tuesday 16 December 2008
Make a child in need smile
Wonderful initiative set up on the web by a friend, Andrei Chirica. I made a child smile. Will everyone? http://www.cinevazambeste.ro/
What the hell is a blog?
I've been asking myself this ever since my Digital Hobbit friend first mentioned it to me. He's also been trying to explain it ever since, but to no avail.
I will choose to think of it as a personal yet shared space on the web, where I will, with any unfortunate reader's permission, trespass others' private thoughts and cross them with my own.
In fact, this is why I have taken up the challenge today. I have been reading someone's blog, reluctantly at first, but found myself drawn into the whole idea. I mean... if I let others pollute my thoughts and imagination with theirs, why wouldn't I return the favour?
Not that I expect anyone to know about it or take the time to read it, but just in case...
How's that for an introduction?
I will choose to think of it as a personal yet shared space on the web, where I will, with any unfortunate reader's permission, trespass others' private thoughts and cross them with my own.
In fact, this is why I have taken up the challenge today. I have been reading someone's blog, reluctantly at first, but found myself drawn into the whole idea. I mean... if I let others pollute my thoughts and imagination with theirs, why wouldn't I return the favour?
Not that I expect anyone to know about it or take the time to read it, but just in case...
How's that for an introduction?
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