l'armor
Feeling decidedly unwell, I stayed in bed all day and rested. To be honest, I've been feeling a little down over the last couple days, which probably was more the reason I stayed at home today then any physical discomfort. I lay in my bed and thought about love.
It's interesting, looking at the topics that have generated the most interest in my blog:
1) Differences between men and women
2) Sex
3) Awkward and/or compromising situations involving women and myself
4) My ruminations on love
All of these topics relate to love in some way. This continual search for a chosen other, the person that complete us and make us whole. The happy ending in a life that is often little in similarity with the fairy tales of our youth. We're fascinated by it. Can't get enough of it. Sex is an extension of love, even those purely physical relationships that romantics frown upon and men everywhere dream about. A purely sexual relationship is never about the sex, in my opinion. It's the outlet of our desperation and loneliness. The sex takes us to an illusion where we're with that Other, when in reality we're still searching for it. That for one brief moment ("too brief!" chuckle the women), we can experience that intimacy we yearn for, do crazy things for, make all sacrifice and lay all on the line for.
Then the moment ends, and we find we are still alone.
I could never quite get it together when it came to the women I truly cared about. I think it's a good thing. I found that when I'm at my most charming, most witty, most secure, it is with women that I know, deep down, I have no true interest in, will never work, and would be unhappy in a relationship with them. And when I'm at my most vulnerable, most nervous, most tongue-tied and awkward, things that people say I am not, those are the times when I know I've found someone special. It doesn't happen very often, which makes every time all the more important, all the more crucial. And I'm always terrified, every single time. But I need to relish it, submerge myself in that fear, because I know if I surrender to it, fail to act on how I feel, she's just going to walk away from me and out of my life. Again. I want to believe in serendipity but, in truth, fate is about building a bridge of chance for the one you care about.
That's my moment of realisation right there. Ironically, when I'm at my most confident, cock-sure, self centered and aloof, that's the time women decide they find me attractive. Which goes to show women shouldn't make important decisions that don't involve what's for dinner or what colour curtains should go in a room. Women everywhere, try to limit your hate messages to 50 words max somewhere private , via Facebook or something when you're not too busy uploading photos of what exciting thing you did on the weekend that involves you and several girl friends dressing up yet again.
Also, I didn't really spend all my time thinking about love. I also read abit, among which was the Economist, which also judging by blog traffic and posts discussed, belongs somewhere in the bottom 5 in generating interest, nestled somewhere between monetary policy and my work. 'Pretentious Wanker' only hurts if I still care about what you say regarding my interests.
Not that I deny it of course.
posted by jaseypoo! @ 8:58 PM
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