Nov 3, 2016

No more chestnuts

No more chestnuts.
No more such friends.
I have plenty of friends, I'm full of friends. Exhaustively full.
Next time I won't have sex with someone I clearly don't see as a friend. No, thank you.
Generally and also given my recent experience, men work like this:
Approach, take chances, possibly score. Mission accomplished. Go for next one. 
It's as if they're driven by the animal need to plant their seed in as many partners as possible. A need to survive.
Screw what M. said about the men's crucial search for their mother. I tell you what works.
Men plant their seed and woman become mothers. That's all.
Obviously I'm too affected by culture to want a man for other things than that. 
But I have decided on one thing. Before I sleep with the next one, I'm gonna tell him that we are not just friends and we'll never be just friends. In fact, I never saw him as a friend and why should I do it after we have sex. 
And if he walks away then good. Perfect, actually. Make space for the next try. Don't waste my time.
And no matter how immature I may be or how motherly I behave, how much I care and give and take and ruin, the process is what matters. I can say, I have been trying all along. I am true and I have feelings.
So no more bloody chestnuts. No more of these weird friends who either want something from you or you want something from them and you cannot just enjoy life with.


that's me Vanilla

My photo
Λατρεύω τον Claude Monet, τα κυριακάτικα απογεύματα και το μπλε του ουρανού τις ενδιάμεσες ώρες, τους φίλους μου, τη φύση, τη ζωή.