Un homme déserté

On modern day friendship

I don’t know about you. But I find it hard to find somebody out in the street these days who genuinely mean the affection they show. If they even show any.

You have to be a super-human with god qualities expectations to “be hip” enough to gain someone’s friendship and respect. By that I mean, the long-induced self-doubts that consumerism has inflicted on us since we were kids. You have to have certain clothes to be cool, or certain toy to play with friends, certain weight to be pretty, also certain height, skin complexion, hair type, musical taste etcetera to be able to “belong” with a group. To be one of the friends.

That’s the problem with real life. You are expected to be normal and you unconsciously force yourself to act that way, when you and I know you’re actually a crazy, lunatic, genius; a hopeless romantic, a painter, a singer, even crazier a gymnast or a clown, and I mean the type of clowns with red nose and make up, the real ones not the personality type. Neither of us is “normal” we’re unique each one of us and our friends are too and we shouldn’t expect each other to act different to be with each other. To be friends. To love each other.

Now, online, more specifically in wis.dm, I notice something we just regard as “normal” and take for granted. We have friends here. You have made friends here, I may be one of yours in fact.

But you know what is different? We haven’t actually met many of us. What is different is that in here when we are online looking at a screen and reading someone’s words, we’re getting only the essence of the person and not the veil of normality in them. We let out more of our unique personalities in here than in the real world. We are being more unique, less normal, if you will. And what’s so special about it? You still made friends. And often they write kind words to you which they mean to you, the real you; and some times you say them back and mean them too. Don’t you?

Because so far I feel like you do.

So you know what guys? Next time someone asks me how many friends I have, I will not say the number of the ones that I watch every week. (Most likely under 20 for most). I will count the dozens of you I’ve met here and have had pleasant times with and interesting conversations with. You guys are real friends too.

Love.

On the mysteries of men and women

Who’s more complicated, someone asked, men or women?

Here’s my reasoning:

For centuries men have spread the concept that no quest in the universe compares to that of attempting to understand the female mind. That no other thing does a man wishes to accomplish more, and that it might just be the reason of their existence!

At the same time, women have intensively amazed themselves at the simplicity and predictability of the male of the species. All while at the same time trying to understand the meanings and intricacy of their actions; creating a sense of common understanding in society that men are simple creatures and women… well women come from Venus.

But in reality I think we have been fooling ourselves like two adversaries pointing a weapon at each other when neither has ammunition and both know it well.

The truth is, we’re all the same. Complicated, complex and confused. Neither of us really knows what we want of ourselves and to be able to ignore the monster in the room, the monster of our own indecision and uncertainty, we fool ourselves looking for answers as to why what we want from us can’t be found in them.

We spend our lifetime looking for the answer to a question we well know doesn’t even exist and if it did would be impossible to answer: what do men and women want?