Gender Games

The last few days have gone by in a series of torrid events.

Whether it be a certain loved one's never-ending relationship ups and downs (I was tempted to use the cliché roller coaster) or my own problems with certain members of the opposite sex.

It's because of this that I want to get my thoughts out here so they no longer plague me in the weekend I have classified as The One Weekend I Shall Relax.

If we are going to actually learn from our ancestors and stop pretending that their mistakes are never going to repeat themselves, let's see. In the days of yore, man and woman lived in a strict society setting that was dictated by certain rules of common etiquette.

Ladies, when they liked a young man, they did everything in their power to look beautiful, be polite and entertaining, charm him with their wit and knowledge and hope he returned her affections in a similar way.

Men became enraptured when meeting a lady that they fancied. They transformed into these court jesters, sacrificing their life to get a smile or if they were lucky, a laugh from their lady. They wanted to please her, lavish attention on her and make her feel like the most beautiful woman that had ever graced on the planet.

You know things are really distorted when I am writing this and I feel I am writing a romance novel.

Somewhere along the way, everything changed. Clubs might as well be brothels. Men consider women to be notches on their bed post. They are sex dolls without mind or will. The bigger the number of broken hearts and one night stands, the more virile you are. It's nauseating. Women in turn toy with a man's emotions, consider him to be a means to an end whether it be to satisfy their urges or their needs for a money and a more comfortable life. Or worse, they think that you don't deserve a second of their time because they are superior to you.

So as it is to be expected, nowadays men and women have this composed, complicated game going on when either one shows interest in the other. It is so bloody convoluted that all the players have forgotten the rules of the game and go around pretending they know them. Adding the last ingredient in this recipe for eminent disaster.

Knowledge is no longer power. Oh no. Knowledge is a weapon. The more we know that the other person likes us, the more we use him or her. Another thing, if the person doesn't do what we want them to do, that gives us every right to throw a major tantrum and demand our needs be met.

Bloody bollocks.

I am sick and tired of feeling like I am a prize to be won by the fiercest, nastiest competitor. I am so also tired of having to accept disgraceful behavior from women just because I don't return their sentiment. Women disrespect me by slapping, offending, using or attempting to emasculate me. Do you honestly think that will get my attention? Do you honestly think I'll say 'oh that's a strong independent woman who doesn't take shit from men'?

I won't think this.

No. I will think you're pompous, arrogant, disrespectful and deluded.

So I would really like it, for my sake and a loved one of mine, that you are all just honest and stop dragging us around like we're rag dolls. And most importantly, stop thinking you can just spring forward and do as you please with us. I promise you this, it will bite you in the arse, in the most painful matter.

Flowers and Love

I honestly forgot I had this. It's been a while but circumstance brings me here one more time. Along with a need for an outlet. Though I know for a fact that I do not have a fan base like my good friend Michelangelo does, even if he is a horrendous blogger nowadays.

My last entry was rather depressive. It's a bit idiotic to say that I wasn't in such a good shape at that time. Luckily for me, seasons change. Old loves are reborn and new people come into my life.

I was told that journals are good for finding your voice... which could be true if I wasn't utterly distracted by the beauty behind the entire Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. My iTunes, my choice. I think it just fits with my idea of a lazy Sunday afternoon, even if it has been lazy not by choice. I don't like wasting days doing nothing but lounging, because as much as you want to make this seem otherwise, it really is a complete and utter waste of time to do nothing. Same goes for instant gratification. All you could ever end up with is nothing. It comes and goes as quickly as a whisper.

Tending to my garden the other day I couldn't help but wonder, when did we [humanity] turn into parasites? We walk around, looking for the first flower that catches our fancy. We want to satisfy our 'fix' within the first person that makes us feel physiologically challenged. We clamp unto it, feed like there's no tomorrow then separate and dance our way into another scenario of equally minded imbeciles.

Our world, our lives, our loves all share one common ingredient: they're all shallow. We expect it all to magically turn into a fairy tale as if wishing it would be enough. Yet we sleep around, betray, cheat, lie and generally use up the person until nothing is left. The same nothingness you were running away from.

We don't honor love. We don't take care of others so by default we slaughter our hearts. We don't tend to love. We cease to believe it even exists so our guilt doesn't taint the already soiled experiences that go hand in hand with promiscuity. A bit redundant, isn't it?

I am no saint. I never have been. I admit that more than once I've been tempted to fall into that particular abyss with shiny neon lights and watermelon flavored condoms. It's not worth it.

Never would I change the thrill and the simplest joy that fills my heart when my little bud blossoms into a beautiful flower after I've devoted myself to it's care. Knowing well enough that it's not forever makes it even more worth while.

Good grief

Bloody.sexual.frustration.

It is not humanly possible to conceive the idea that we've been together an entire weekend and we have not been able to do anything! It's not even funny. We've slept in the same bed, we've awoken each other with kisses and soft-spoken words, but nothing ever turns rambunctious enough for us to appreciate it! It is positively nerve-racking the way the universe conspires against you. I have never witnessed it in such magnitude. If it isn't her intrusive but well-intentioned father, it's her attention-seeking twin brother, if it's neither of those two, it's her overly-materializing ex-boyfriend and if it's neither of those factors, it's our exhausted bodies!

Good GRIEF. You must be joking.

We are both in a foul mood. I even moved my plane ticket (a lovely 120 pounds that I'll never see again) to stay longer and see if we can perhaps make time for ourselves. I can't believe how quickly word travels, for I already have a godforsaken meeting in the morning.

My anxiety and anger are so bad, I'm having palpitations as we speak. Though now I shall retire to my girlfriend's arms as to comfort ourselves promptly. Or at least attempt to do so.

And all because of a glossy lipstick...

Unfamiliar to many apparently, the code is my way of life. I suppose it does sound surprising to some people but I did attend the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst. I served my rightful time and learned quite a few things. In them, I learned honor and respect. I'm also well aware that today's youth is being raised in a world filled with over the top liberties, they fail to grasp the concept of deference as it seems they were raised in the wild by a pack of wolves. I have managed to sail my way through all kinds of situations, people and scenarios; more often than not I am succesful.

But there's no need for me to rant and mention no names. Or maybe there is. Maybe I'm being ridiculous and childish by mentioning them both. Him, for ignoring the fact that you have to maintain some sort of decent distance with the woman that, you are consciously aware, is being courted by another man. Her, for provoking a needless and rather dangerous encounter between two men, one who is at a clear disadvantange. Though I suppose that it IS normal after all, most people love to ruffle the feathers of the quiet hawk, waiting to see if he'll react and finally poke their eye out as they have been so anxiously waiting for.

We all know that you, noiseless watchers of our little drama, are waiting for the big fight. Why wouldn't you? Two grown men after the same awe-inspiring woman. Only one gets to keep her. As the old saying goes "let the best man win" and we all know who the better man is.

Alas, it is partly not his fault. I suppose we'll label him as an unfortunate victim of circumstance. I'm not as mad at him as I am at her. It is her I like. It is she the object of my affection. It is she who looked positively ravishing with her new look and tempted me to take her right then and there. I suppose it is my fault for not being fast enough or with a quick tongue to sample her glossy lips. Yes, I am guilty of being slow in that sense. I can't express myself as eloquently as I would've liked. I would've loved to take him away and be with her alone. We'll call it my payment for taking a trip on a whim to another continent to see her. I will admit I am very sorry I couldn't stay longer with her, whisper to her ear how splendid she looked and steal a kiss or two.

Though I cannot let her go unpunished. It is not in my nature. We'll blame my anger. And my pride.