Canine Existence

Maybe writing is a sophisticated medium of self-deception. We are, after all, somehow deceiving us into thinking that there will be someone reading this; in fact, we don‘t even think in terms of potential readers, we actually are engaged in this conversation without the need of a recipient. In sports, there’s always a crowd. Maybe we build whole stadiums, pack them with people, and all in just a sentence. But at the moment, this is perhaps the most lonesome state of mind. Because we are not aware of this reality, we may rush to strangers’ eyes, who knows what lurks in the minds of all of this people; you ought to think, just by trying to make sense of your own life, you know is not an easy task. Your own evolution, that is. And no matter how well intended you are, you just can’t change others. Accept them the way they are, give them room to maneuver, don’t rush into things for the thrill of it. Then you find yourself doing just the opposite of what feels right to do.
How a course of action may appeal to you emotionally is of no concern. How the object of your affection reacts can make or break the deal. Shock her, don’t just take her drama nonstop. I mean, girls whine and whine and we just have to sit down and take it?
Just let it breath. Go out for a walk. Don’t read too much into it. And nowadays, I spend a lot of my time doing the most noble and not nearly as adrenaline-packed activities, like studying, parenting, writing, exercising. And things of this nature, though gratifying in and of their own accord, cultivate a finer taste and somewhat counter our wicked, selfish ways. Putting the work in. No parties, for now. No love life. No madness.
And, of course, this is not a moral stance, although a degree of morality plays its part in it. We are, after all, moral animals.
The thing is, I like mourning. Time for “mourning”, to just vegetate, sit back down and relax for a while. Reminisce the fun and let go without having to jump back into the scene just yet. Soon, yes, undoubtedly. Not just yet. First, we recover financially. Build the capital to go back places: college, Colombia, Mangos’. Now we focus for a while on the vital things put on hold. We shouldn’t idle in sadness. It should be punishable under the law having loved only to regret and resent.
Now we build. Now we meditate, fully immerse ourselves in the act. Now we work out consistently. Now we take the on-site exam, and get certified. No more spending, except on diet and clothing. Damian, don’t spend your time other than work, home and the gym. No more going out. No more bullshit. For now.

Few venture our writings, and, of course, we may sound egotistical. The reason is not based on ego; it’s just style. I work my writing mind as if I were purging myself, as if I was asking questions, as if I were having a conversation with myself. I don’t write for the masses; I write for myself and some may not appreciate that. Writing then, as a process, is rarely boring to me, it appears engaging, even appealing, to some. That’s good for vanity, I guess. We write, too, becomes we are vain, like those who would have my head swear, an egotistical being. Sort of an ass. Just not all the way, and never unnecessarily. Best to make it seem like it was your fault. If that’s the price of freedom, so be it. Now work harder than ever and in winter we will go back to Colombia, stop for a weekend in Miami, Florida. Go back to South Beach. Love life and wish well. Be well. Look well. Feel oh so good.

Just tell her to shut up. And have fun doing it. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” She’d hit back with something like: “Who do you think you’re talking to?” You may reply: “Well, I don’t see anyone else in this room!” Tease her to tears. I kind of like this new girl. I won’t ask her out just yet, I told her. It’s alright; we hang out at the same places. Who knows, maybe one night we’ll watch True Blood in my place with a bottle of champagne on ice. Make sure you don’t fuck her until she begs you to. Tease her, kiss her here, there, then nowhere and be receptive to her lips, lock them in a kiss. Touch her firmly, just not too rough or graphic. Keep eye contact and make sure your eyes spell serenity and control; she should feel safe with you. Lovers don’t talk too much. It’s not really that hard; don’t be too graphic. Tone it down to sensual. She’ll love you for it. Tell her you love the way her hair smells. If it smells good, of course. Lasciviously, whisper these things into her ear, like a lover, not a shy boy. She is your property now. Invest it well. Front it. Party all night long. Fuck her daily, and not just once! Here, there and everywhere; now and then, forever.

Stronger Than They Give Me Credit For

Men are superficial and physical; most of them, anyway. They prefer the aesthetic, athletic, youthful type. Women know this; they strive to keep a healthy weight, look their very best, wear the right outfit; most of them, anyway. Some men have money; some have charisma; some have personality; some, looks. Few have it all, and as such, they are very picky. If you have more, you demand more in every aspect of life.
On the other hand, women are more substantial and her interests go beyond looks. Her man may not be the most handsome fellow, but he should at the very least rely on more of the traits that will give him an edge in real life. He ought to be willing to take on the world, going places (so that he knows where to take her), if he is to be worth her time. These are traits women deem far more important, almost essential, in their men: character, impeccability, drive, aplomb, intelligence. Those are the psychological traits, among others, that will make more of a lasting impression in the most desirable females. You need not be the best; just be your very best, and she’ll know there is something special about you. She’ll know this from the get go, as it is not a characteristic front but a centered gravitational force that sucks her in. You don’t break the ice; you melt it. You give her plenty of space, and go in for the chase. Don’t give up at the first obstacle, and don’t focus your best energy on failed attempts. Do not give up, but do not give all either. Give yourself gradually; let the other person digest you. Don’t rush, and don’t settle: good things take diligent patience.
Even the most evolved kind, they need assurance, protection, comfort. And in their partners, they seek way more than a simple carnal avowal, a more tangible and accountable role. As men, we want to have as many as we possibly can. We may not say it. But it’s true. It’s like a curse. It’s not our fault. In fact, I don’t think it makes us any better or worse than women. Because if men are out there doing God knows what, with whom if not with other women. Sure, there are many bisexual men out there, but that is not what is in the mind of the average female whenever her man steps out on his own.

There are men who are solvent. Not rich, not close… just solvent. And if that man embodies other qualities, all the better. A shallow man may sacrifice looks for intelligence; now, I have to find my girl attractive in more than one way, and I don’t go for bimbos either.
I’m choosy, and I don’t think anyone should want any less. My main interest in women is not based solely on her looks. She has to play the part in this arena, but ultimately how clever and lively, how full of joy and femininity she is, how vibrant and alive, will have more of a say than just plain looks. I do not sacrifice substance. Beauty, it sometimes can spell boredom. You may notice how the best girls don’t always go for the good looks in boys. They want men; not toys. They want to be the beautiful one in the relationship. Tough look when you’re standing next to me in my A-game. I command attention; I am a force to be reckon. But I’m also loyal and exclusive. Character is the most seductive trait a man can cultivate in order to woo any potential mate into his dom. And not lightly do I say “cultivate”, because just like a body needs to be worked on in order to build stamina and strength, so does the mind need to be trained. We can train the mind with meditation. We can train the mind with a rigorous and dynamic routine, full of excitement, leisure and serenity. We can let go, only if we choose to. It’s not easy; it’s not impossible, either. That’s how character is built. You can feast, just as long as you know how to fast.
Beauty in women is of common property. It is easy to find a semi-gorgeous creature, you just have to stick your head out in any industrialized city. Workout, be neat, strike out, have fun and focus on a life all of your own. You cannot expect a woman to fill the void; existence demands more of you than simply living in pursue of the female enigma. She won’t thank you for it, if your life revolves around her. She should be a very important part of your life, and not the sole reason of your purpose. If that’s the case, she’ll come to resent you and move on to a more assertive lover. You don’t have to be bad; just be a good guy with balls. Assert your masculinity, you’re always in control and you can alternate between reward and punishment. We don’t reward bad behavior; we don’t process it either. Rejection is to be taken as lightly as reciprocity. And if taken with enough lightheartedness, it redirects the blow. If you act as if something big is at stake, which shows in your demeanor, your tone of voice, your rigid stance; we should relax in both body and mind, lay back emotionally, be more like your child: selfish, driven, physical, untamed. A man of few words.
If you’re not being rejected, you’re not daring enough. If you are rejected every time, then change your approach. Etc. We can sit here and debate for long how men and women differ, but truth be told: women of substance tend to be materialistic. Men are egotistical, primal, linear, impulsive. A shallow woman may demand of her man to have to pay for most, if not all, of the time. She may resent if ever she has to pick up the bill. Or God forbid, you light up a cigarette.
When you deal with women, you deal emotions. And the best thing to do is, do more of the things that annoy her until she cuts you loose. That is not a plan; that is my mental script. It’s not a choice; it’s destiny. Of course, pick up the bill, and next time be more generous. You can give a whole lot more; invest a small amount now into this effort. I won’t give is complain or pass judgment, these are the gifts I give to myself. I won’t focus on what’s wrong with my partner. I will see and encourage their light. In absence, we will be the more present; in darkness, I will shine on through the winter shadows.
I will guide the way home. Home is what we felt and feel, where we fell, where we got up. Home is patience and tolerance. Home is harmony. Home is peace of mind. Home is family. Home, too, is the wilderness and the unknown, the sudden tempest, and so we welcome goodbye, and we embrace our sorrow. It is true testament that something of worth was lost and will never be restored again. No one will give us back the moments; let’s take the cherished memories along for the ride, mend, leave behind and forget all that was. We will also, as of right now, invest time and effort into building new memories. Let’s travel; let’s mingle. Let’s be friends. Let’s love once again.
I’ve waited for this, patiently.
I will weather the storm.
Of course, I’ll love to be friends, just not right away. Bury the past and its seed will give fruit to more lucid horizons.
There are a thousand voices throughout the course of the day. Whichever I happen to listen to, agree with, is not always the one I follow. As of lately, whenever in doubt, I ask myself, “Am I being passive, or too aggressive about this? Am I being too neutral?” What I don’t do much is listen to my emotions; emotions are, nonetheless, unavoidable. I tone things down in my mind before I speak, and sometimes I retaliate. I don’t always catch myself firing away, as if carried away by a larger and more powerful beast. I will introduce a pause, no need to rush to the final line. Here and now, these are the most precious things life can give and we must reciprocate; we mustn’t wait. Am I being assertive or procrastinating again? Ask yourself, “What action will have the greater impact? Am I laying back, or am I pushing forward?” Deciding between going to the gym or not will have a different impact on your life. As I smoke my last cigarette, I know my resolve is a force to be reckon with. It falls, and then it gets up; it looks beaten, and then it knocks you out. It’s a bitch showing its teeth and wailing its tail. It’s a canine existence.
We’re stronger than they led us to believe.