Sunday, 27 December 2015

Charles Bukowski and the terrible itch for solitude.

Good night:
Today, we are going to talk about love.

Last night, my best friend and - one of my soulmates I believe - and I started to talk about our issues with love. We have known each other for 10 years now, we have held each other's hand throught everything, literaly everyfucking thing you can imagine. We seem to share the same views and thoughts on life so we often get into these deep discussions about what does it all mean. 

Suddenly, he showed me something that I can't just keep to myself. It was a poem by Charles Bukowski, one so raw, so heartbreakingly us.

“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you'll never meet them.” - Charles Bukowski

i'm going to get personal, I have recently got out of a 7 year long on & off relationship with what I thought it was the man I was going to spend my entire life with. It was bad. It was really bad and then...nothing. I started to get to know myself again, gosh how I have missed me. How could I forget how much fun I can be? How could I forget who I was? How?

You know that insecure, little girl who waited for validation from the people around her, almost apologising when she spoke her mind? She is no more. I have grown and changed into someone that is above all else ... stronger and belongs to the world.

I have this fire that makes me wanna go dancing every friday night and this lust that makes wanna catch the eye of that very cute guy in the corner and when it's over I pretty much just want to get home and get to bed alone. And that's ok. Wanting that is totally ok. No, you are not a slut, you are not some wild card, you know what you are doing. All of this is ok. I know they don't tell you that very often, do they? matter how much fun I'm having, no matter with whom.... there's always a question on the back of my mind: is this it? Am I doomed to spend the rest of my life being the crazy cat lady from the simpsons? Fuck that. 
Fuck everything that tells me that by 28 I ought to be preparing for marriage and listening to some internal tik tak, tik tak. 
I'm 28, beautiful, successful, healthy - when I'm not destroying my liver every other day - I refuse to settle though.

Because, once you settle, how do you find the answer to this: " How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them?" That's hard enough to do when you're not settling. That is so hard, to actually stop thinking what if, to actually be happy with someone..."But you'll never meet them".

I hope I never stop wanting to go dancing. I hope this fire never goes out. 
I hope to never settle. I hope I get shaken to the core.

Your very poetic TopCrusher,