Tag Archives: needs



Does fighting make us grow up or… grow apart? Probably the question which comes to my mind every time I fight with… somebody meaningful in my life! I believe there is the art of couple fighting. as there is an art of war or an art for love. Fighting comes somewhere in-between love and war, so technically anything goes…

Technically! When chairs start flying in the thick tense air you just know that you have reached a brand new rock bottom. But maybe I rushed a bit into the whole “chairs flying through the air” situation, because it couples rarely start their fighting routines so abruptly. Each couple has it and they see it coming while they’re sitting in a crowd and one of them does something “unforgivable” in the other’s big staring eyes.

And from there forward, things just start building up. Mean looks, passive-aggressive remarks, pitch-black somehow offensive jokes, bitter couple uncalled for self-irony, flirting with third parties, vengeance hook-ups, guilty mornings, stereotypical “I’m sorry” dozen of roses, one-night stand pregnancy scare, self-loathing, self-pity… until you end up all by yourSELF. This can pretty much sum up the “growing apart” scenario.

We want passionate, consuming love! We thrive for it, but it has never come to our narrow minds that passion comes in the custom settings of our partner. Whether (s)he’s passionate while giving us the orgasm of our life-time or by ticking off the shit out of us, it’s still passion!

I am one of the women who will never settle for a neat and cozy romance scenario. I WANT PASSION! And modesty aside, when I set my mind to get something, I usually end up getting it! For the best or worst…

I have experienced both cases and concluded that I like the first most. Passion, just like any other intense emotion, can be quite addictive! If you get too much, you want more. You want more, you get more. You get more, you want even more. And your partner can rise up to the occasion and give it to you, because you are on the same wave length or feel frustrated by your unearthly demands and show you a bit of the dark side of passion.

What’s the dark side of passion anyway? Abuse of any kind: constraint to do/not do certain things (permission-interdiction power games), heavy recurrent screaming, insulting, beating, humiliating, threatening, forced sex (a.k.a. couple rape!). Oh, but the love, the love is soooo strong! Hmmmm, no it’s not! IT’S JUST BLIND IRRATIONAL PASSION! But it feels so intense that you almost mistake it for love. Love does not look like that. It’s passionate, but it’s also kind…


Can you have love without passion? Yes! Been there, done that! Felt disappointed, frustrated and sad…

Can you have passion without love? Yes! Been there, done that also! Felt outraged, angry and vengeful…

Can you have love and passion all together?

Only if you’re goddamn lucky, if you stubbornly persevere and you keep at all times, irrespective of your level of inner-frustration, your… humanity, trust and respect your beloved. Giving him/her the benefit of the doubt, when you are experiencing the strongest doubts of your life. A leap of faith in a sea of uncertainty. Swimming injured in an ocean filled with hungry sharks.

Can you do this? I understand that you want it all, but are you willing to give your all to have it all?
If not, don’t even bother dreaming it… cuz you’re not worthy of such a big dream…
If so, show it, believe it and do it! If you dream it that means that you can do it…

Thou shalt not mess with thy neighbour’s right to shoe

Thou shalt not mess with thy neighbour’s right to shoe


To shoe or not to shoe is no longer a matter of choice. All that’s left is the almighty shoe. Shoe here, shoe there, shoe everywhere. Show thy shoes, for they will be the cause of your judgement! Shoes might be a girl’s best friends, together with diamonds, and if we’re talking about diamond shoes even better. But when it comes to a woman, shoes are her pedestal.

Flats, wedges, stilettos, pumps, boots, tennis shoes, sandals, it doesn’t really matter, because the magnitude of the heel is not the measure of the pedestal. Shoes go fairly well with style and even better with a little bit of attitude. You can’t just walk in the shoes. They’re yours only if you make them yours. Nobody else will do it for you, just so you know.

You can tell from a mile whether the relationship between a lady and her shoes is a long-term please & prance, or a just use & abuse (in)commodity. A pair of shoes will respect and care for you and subsequently your lovely feet, soles and toes as long as you show the same dignified respect. The non-believers, pragmatics and overly sarcastic bunches might think that this is a very good metaphorical joke. It actually isn’t!

Now let’s do an exercise of imagination, everyone.

Assume you are, hypothetically speaking, in a shoe store. And not the Al Bundy type of shoe store, but the bright lights, leather smell and well-organized facility. You are completely mesmerized by being surrounded by so many pairs of shoes. Elegant, casual, sport, it doesn’t really matter. It’s your moment on shoe symbiosis.

You try to keep it cool and avoid drooling on the exhibited shoes, but a good woman in “shoe fever” can only take so much. So you start trying them on, and on, and on. It’s a kinda magic, I shit you not! You even receive professional and sincere pieces of advice from the shoe rep.

Not those one. The soles are not looking very good. Ok! I’ll take your word for it, but the electric blue almost convinced me.

Again, hypothetically, you are there having your shoe orgy and he comes along to help you decide.

So which ones do you like best?

Well, the brown ones.

But don’t you have another two pairs?

I do.

So, you don’t need more, right?

Oh, but I do, I really really do!

You can see his face frowning with confusion and misunderstanding, while in your mind an idea is born: Thou shalt not mess with thy neighbour’s right to shoe! Not now, no ever! Amen!

In the end you buy both pairs of shoes. Because you can and you want them. You are smart and sensible enough to know that the whole “I need shoes” discourse meets your need for attention more than your need for shoes.

He is puzzled as you walk out of the store flaunting the shoe bags. You turn to him, smile trying to look for your zen which seems to have gotten lost in-between the shoe try-outs and the frowning, take him by the hand and walk towards right into the sunset. He will get it eventually… hypothetically speaking…