Tag Archive: insecurity


I hate the change. I really do.
I had too many changes during the past years and I greet the new one with the words which are probably not suitable for the daily programme. There are lot of F words, somebody sons and other inappropriate terms in my mental vocabulary for the past days. And I must remind myself to use them out loud because I have the headache from the moment I open my eyes in the morning.

I moved. Into a beautiful new apartment, all shiny and new, delightfully decorated (love the yellow tone in the living room), with nice shiny gadgets, with air-cons all over the place including the bathroom (oh, I finally have the bath tub again), lots of sun coming from the outside, nice large terrace, I`m surrounded with pine trees and the sea is just 3 minutes away. Beautiful isn`t it? Well, at the moment I almost hate every minute of it.

Why? Because for the first time in my life I left the city. The city, you know, that crowded noisy place, where the apartments are small, where you can see trees only in the parks, where you hear every word of your neighbours, where after finding a parking place circuling the block just for 10 minutes you open a bottle of champagne, where sometimes you can`t fall asleep because some moron decided that he felt like singing at 3 a.m. right in front of your building, the place where you need a helmet and a baseball bat during the rush hour, where nobody knows anyone and you are pleasantly cloaked by anonymity which comes handy in certain situations … you know, the city.

So, this morning, after opening my eyes and getting scared again because for the moment I couldn`t recognize where the hell am I, and getting the headache from it, suddenly Heraclitus came into my thoughts. You know, the Greek guy which was so fascinated by changes, the one I curse right now for the saying „nothing endures but the change“. Well you can take it and shove it in your @##!!!!!
And don`t give some Deepak Chopra #&!!!%&# either because I DON`T LIKE THE CHANGE. A-a, every damn time I move, I get completly stressed out, I bump into furniture for the first 3 months, I wake up jumping from bed, I am disorientated and as soon as I get use to the place and relax, something happens and I move again.

And I miss the city. Miss everything that was just a street away: shops, library, favorite caffe`, my friends, even the family…and the noise. You are not aware how that city noise is actually soothing until you lay in the bed at night and you hear…nothing! Complete silence! No cars passing by, no talk or laughter on the street, no music coming from bars, restaurants, other people`s cars or apartment, complete absence of all those machines which always rumble and you are never sure where and what are they. Nada. Niente. Nichts. Rien.
And you need the car for everything. You can`t just throw on your coat, walk for few minutes and get what you want, now I have to actually plan things. (and for some reason, I feel like a housewife from the 50s, don`t ask why, still haven`t figured that one out)

Yeah, yeah, I know, it takes time. But still, I am a city girl used to all ups and downs of a ordinary architectural beehive in which everything is here and now.

So dear Heraclitus, you dirty ol` …., here`s to you. There, I admit, I`m busted. I feel like standing naked on the strong wind wondering should I keep on trying to hold to the ground or just let myself fly away, wherever that wind may carry me.

Because I (it surely looks like) deserve it, 67.

P.S. one other thing, what`s with the weather?!? This is Mediterranean for crying out loud, what`s with the strong wind and snow?!? I dreamed of quiet walks by the sea under the pine trees with the gentle sun on my back, not that I would have to grab and hold the damn trees  just to get to the shop!

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This is the exact way how the story was brought to me, and now I am giving it to you….

There`s a guy. Actually, a representative of a certain type of the man. He is the walking nightmare for the majority of the male sex.

He is The One.

The Chosen One…

His name is Patrick. He is 38. French or Canadian, he is speaking with a hard French accent. Which sounds so….damn good! He is 6`4, his face is slightly peaked, with a dominant chin and a strong jaw. His body is tense and muscular, but not too much. Just about that, when you touch it, the hand may send to the brain informations about a living rock. That perfect body, so tough and firm, has a history. Le Patrick is a free climber. When his strong hands pry every curve on the rock, his mind is sharpened. In that moment, he can devote to his hidden passion-philosophy.

There is something magnificent in his climbing style. Especially when he takes of the shirt and lets the small drops of sweat to shimmer on a tight surface of his skin…And glide on his back, without any thought of doubt or insecurity. He knows. And may.

His moves are slow and silent. His face has a mysterious smile, always ready for a conversation. He is full of understanding and always in a good mood. Turbo friendly towards the whole universe, he has enough strenght to bare every challenge. And to reward all it`s participants….

Die bastard, die!!!

Damn you!

Damn the Patrick and all his representatives!

Why? Because there is no woman which will resist him! Because all the other men, compared to him, are assholes!

Because Le Patrick will never fell asleep whith a dry dick! Because however you may work and try around some hottie, she will melt like a fine jello and pour over Le Patrick`s figure and leave the guy with who she was before him. Without a simple goodbye.

Because when HE shows up, there isn`t a thing which a normal, ordinary guy may say or do, not to become totally insignificant, dull, boring and stupid. Because HE is quite ok, friendly and correct towards all those ordinary guys, not giving them a good reason to punch him right in the face!

Because He is The Chosen One.

Every chick will choose Him. No Regular Joe doesn`t have a chance while He is around. They are all His. Drooling, blinking, giggling on every His word watching Him with admiration.

Which leaves Regular Joe all alone on the bar, sipping his lonely drink. Because he doesn`t exist any more. Not a trace. His presence and prevalence are irreversibly erased….

I do hope that the story is funny to you how it was to me. They told me the story with such a passion and bitterness that I was loughing out loud all the time while they were telling it!!Imagine what is bothering them! Le Patrick! Some fictitious guy in their head which they admire and hate!

A secret nightmare for which they loath every guy with a stronger chin, free climbing and foreign accents. Leaving them to live in fear deep down.

For some Le Patrick which may show up on their, always unsecured, territory!

Just too damn funny. And then they say that women are dramatic and insecure…Ha!

 

The phone rings. With a cry for help. (literally, I`ve picked it up and heard „aaaaaaaaaaa“). A couple I know, friends of mine, demanded to meet because, I quote“they can`t take it anymore“. Well, when you put it that way….

They are together for, what, 4 months now. Total love, they say. Inseparable from day one, they sleep together, go shopping together, eat together, scream together…

And that is the problem.

They fight. Oh my God they really do! And the fights are brutal, sometimes they take all night. As they are both insecure, when the first one bites, the other one returns with heavy artillery. Not even thinking about it. After all this time, it have become a habbit, a reflex move for both of them.

One of the things on which they are proud is that they talked, reported and recounted everything to each other. Whole emotional and sexual past. With all the juicy details…hm. Bad move.

The actual problem is:

-she have declared that her ex, with whom she spent several years, is still in her heart, as a good friend and a nice person, that they call each other from time to time, and blah blah blah…. Ooooooooooooh woman! You… you…. you….did what?!? You can`t say that to HIM!!! What is wrong with you?!? First you tell him, illustrate him with all the technical details, what have you been doing, where, how long, how often and then you spice it with a „he is still in my heart“!?!?!

Who wants to hear that??? He is already dazed and doubtful! So what He actually heard was: „we remained close after all that time after the break up, because he is sooooooooo fantastic and if you make a mistake, if you even slip, I will pick up the phone and return in his arms (and bed)„. Ha!

And why, WHY, are you telling each other everything? What`s that twisted urge of exibitional massacre? That`s official and classical torture!

I don`t want to carry around pictures of my boyfriend with all his ex-s! No details, please.

Give me the basics – we-were-together-and-now-we`re not. Why the hell would I need all the details?!? I don`t wanna know how much fun did you have, how was the sex, how you did it, where you did it, where you`ve been, on which places, which excursions, how she cooked, what she cooked, your funny stories, your romantic tales, how much did you loved her and she….

I don`t ask for it and I don`t want to hear it either. That is cruel. Why would anyone fill me with this informations? Or why would I do it to somebody else? It is a bygone, a past tense and that is a good condition. For us.

We are here now, you and I, and let`s try to do and give the best that we can. Here, now. I don`t want 300 ghosts which will hunt us. I don`t want orgies with all our ex-s, I want just us. We are interesting and loving enough.

When you are pushing them between us, you are not close to me. You are fencing, enclosuring and protecting yourself with them. Be here with me. Let it go.

There, I said it. To them too. To Boo Fighters – the ones that are fighting with scarrying the loved ones away. Don`t be one of them `cause the failure is guaranteed.