Category: Magic


Marrrrrrrriage. Sounds scary sometimes.

But if something is even more scarier, that is the divorce. And it`s consequences. But now, not to wake the awful dark demons, we will fast forward a little bit. Into the period when the divorce is already far far gone. At least it should be.

Regarding it, there`s a one tiny winy detail that I`m bothered with: why some women keep their old husband`s last name?

For example, you had a bad divorce. And I mean really ugly. This is not an exception, people are really rarely separated as friends, truely wishing him/her all best. It sounds almost…utopian. Most women just freeze and obscure when someone even mentions their Ex, and they usually „tagg“ him/her the prefixes like: jerk, idiot, moron, bitch, retard, weasel, loser, bastard….you get the picture. They can`t stand him.

But…they are still walking around with his last name. The name of the same person which they despise and hate.

Therefore I ask – why in the name of God?

If you already hate every particle of his being, you are disgusted of his every trace, why are you still stack with his name? What „drives“ this masochistic need to keep it, not to throw away that stinky garb with which you are cloaked, which you attire every morning then snort with your nose on his smell?

If we think about that „nomen est omen“, what is this telling about you? Your name is a very important thing, we are connecting with it, many studies are made proving the impact of letters and words on our life. People are spending years on therapies for that same strong words which have marked their lives. But THIS name – you are not touching. Why is that? After all that…massacre of divorce, why don`t you change it with some that is only yours and which doesn`t connect you with that odious person and all the suffering you had with it?

Why? For some provincial belief that the divorcee is a damaged good? Socially labeled as defected? C`mon! Get real!

I remembered another situation, the one when He had married again, and the „New wife“ have taken that same last name. I know a very succsessful, educated and very beautiful woman, which is „sticked“ on that New One, bitching about her all the time. Why? Because she thinks that she is The Mrs K. Herself, not the second one. And that she is the only entitled to „use“ this name. Because she was the first. The time is flying by, the Ex and the New one, already have their own baby, but the First one doesn`t gives up. A-a. She is Mrs K. Tones of stupid situations are filling up, the situations in which she has to explain that she is no longer Mr.K`s wife, that she has nothing to do with the certain matter or event, after all – she is a lady, a completly other person and…. But she still stays connected with that man on which she exhausting all her bitterness and venom. Whyyyyyyyyyy????

For the Shakespearean conviction that the rose would smell different? Bullsh*t!!! Even there, the good man Will have clearly showed us that the name IS important. Why, I ask, why don`t you take your maiden name, or some completly new, and after all that suffering grant yourself with a new spring time? The one where everything is waking up, where the world has pure clear colours, interesting sweet scents…The one where new day brings the joy of new beginning, illuminated with the sun`s promise. Without ugly shadows and heavy clouds.

Everyone has the right to make mistakes. Face it, we`re not perfect. But also, we have the right on new debuts, without dragging other people`s bulk on our backs. You know, the right on that easy, uncertain beginnings, without ugly prefixes and suffixes.

Except maybe for the pure adrenalin of the true spring „fix“.

Because you deserve it, vol. 4.

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„Career woman,  educated, funny, charming, looking for a male regarding good sex. Relationship and marriage possible, after consumating his good(ie)s.“

How that sounds?

If you`re a guy, bloody scary, that`s how.

Predatory.

We are talking about sexual equality, about sexual freedom, about all those nicely packed sh.t, with a bow on the top.

The truth is very simple – they are hunters and we are the prey, which doesn`t has much value in their eyes if it surrenders right away. To make it even more simple, if you sleep with the guy the same evening, you often become dull. Yes, you  may see each other for a while, have few good sexual encounters, but for something serious he will choose someone who put at least a little fight. Raising it`s price, in the same time.

Let`s be honest – we can yell, scream, write books, protest as much as we want, but when sex is considered,  they are still very conservative. They still like to try, to fight, even a little, to get their object of desire. Otherwise, they just loose interest and respect. So, we are left with what? To be stubborn, to do it our way, to get mad, cry, curse or just to take the things as they are.

That, I`ve been explaining to a creature, very dear to me,  for the past 10 years. Every now and then, she gets caught in the specific blues, repeating how she would like to have an official boyfriend, how she would like to be loved, cuddled, but it`s ain`t happening. All she has are dates which are starting and finishing as one night stands. The closest she ever came to a relationship, in all this years, are horny calls of the certain guy, in the middle of the night. That kind of „relationship“ lasted over a year. Tears, pleasure and fury were mixing through time, until she finally had it.

All this time she was playing her favorite happy-go-lucky song, saying that she is liberal, opened and that she has the right on it. And she really does.

But…

It`s doesn`t have anything to do with love but with consumation. A fine restaurant dinner vs. fast food. Making a fine dinner takes some effort, time and energy. If you`re not up to it, then take a hot-dog. But then don`t expect some magical flavours.

Seriously, this is how the things are regarding sex, we are still living in the age of caveman. If we get something right away, on a easy way – we just don`t appreciate it. If we have to fight for it, then it`s estimated value is far more higher.

On the other side, sex is a great thing, but if we take to a level to just satisfy our biological need, how in the world we can expect something more?

This is the time of consumerism, where we are actually receiving the message that nothing is priceless and that everyone are replaceble. We can`t praise on that altair expecting that somebody will appreciate us too much, not in that way, that`s sure. That would be prudish.

Let`s make it simple, like true hedonists – if you decide to guttle, to stack food in yourself just to survive, not thinking about it and not giving it a second thought, how do you expect a strong healthy body and some heavenly peaks?

Just decide. Who do you want to be? A predator or a prey? When you do, the things will be much easier. For you and for everyone else.

Female post

This is a female post.

Post for women.

So I would reccomend to all the guys just to leave and not bother with it.

The Almighty knows that I don`t fall for brands. I`m just not touched by all this grand names.

I know that lots of woman save, starve and doing whatever they can, just to get that dark piece of signatured desire. Because they want it. They want it bad. I presume that then, that fabulous piece, represents the compensation for something far more expensive, like selfconfidence or sometimes even love. Just to get that feeling…

But, how it usually goes, when you are not sighing and trembeling about something, that something simply walks into your life. Without any stress. And so, day before yesterday, a red Dior bag walked into my life. A very beautiful red Dior bag. It was given to me, I said thank you, took it and left.  When we were left alone, the bag and me, I looked at it more carefully. A very simple design, the way I like it, but fantasticly red. And it`s mine.

Considering that at the moment I really didn`t have a clue where am I going to take it, I`ve just  drop it on the dresser. And then we looked at each other for a while. The bag and me…

She, so joyful and playful, tipically French, with that joie the vivre sparkling from her, just stands there observing me with glee, asking „where will we go, the two of us?“ with the inevitable giggling. I am sitting on the armchair, returing her the look and smiling gracefully, just how you should with fine ladies, and answering her that I don`t know. Because I really don`t. Don`t have a clue.

And then I discovered something else – that I feel like a highlander in her presence.As a lumberjack, to be more precised. I do because, in the past few months, I have totally neglected my female appearing dimension.

The external, easy fixing, high heel-make-uping, shining, colorful, sexy, seducing dimension. The one with mandatory dressing up from at least half an hour of carefuly picking clothes, make up and shoes. I have replaced it with I`m-in-a-hurry-give-something-practical-and-comfortable dimension.

How it happened? You know, first I`ve decided not to buy any new clothes for a while because my closets are already bursting from it, then I got so many engagements for which that dressed up look it`s just not practical, so I`ve just pushed the fine pieces at the back and placed the comfortable clothes at the front. Easy peasy.

So I`ve post-poned the good looks for some other times. Left my feminality in post tense.

And I must say that I did almost fanatically. Because it is really not important that I look good when I have so many things to do! OK, I don`t wear flanel without the bra and I don`t wear sweat pants but I definitively don`t look raveshing.

But it is important. For a woman. To feel sexy. To dress up, look herself in the mirror and loves what she sees. To feel like a fine expensive artwork.

And now I know why that wonderful red thing came  into my life – to wake me up. With that shiny red colour. On it`s gentle non-verbal way, it touched that unfailing point of femininity. And brought a sanguinel playful breath of personal pampering and caring.

Love. The word is love.

Because I`m here. In all dimensions.

Also as a fine dressed up babe who looks herself pleased in the mirror.

Because I deserve it, vol.3.