Dating

The Front Porch Test

If you’ve watched How I Met Your Mother, you probably know Lily’s Front Porch Test. If you don’t, go watch it right now, because you’re missing a huge part of pop culture and also a great deal of life advice. Honestly, even after rewatching every episode at least 4 times, I can’t argue that pretty much everything in the show is somewhat applicable to my life. Well, except maybe the goat and getting injured by my friends.

Anyway, there’s this one episode that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, it’s The Front Porch Test. If you haven’t seen the show (watch it!): The Front Porch Test is basically an estimation of how well your date will integrate themselves into your group of friends and how well they will interact with them. The ideal is that the entire group grows old together and spends fun afternoons together playing a fictive card game on someone’s front porch.

Also, two of my closest friends are getting married this year, and so thinking of who would be fun and suitable enough to bring to the wedding has become my very own Front Porch Test. No one wants to look at photos and say, “Oh, there’s the […] people I love most in the world. And Bob.” So now I try to imagine who would be a great wedding date (even if I won’t bring a date – I’m writing this for the bride to be and who’s probably been like “Wtf, you’re not getting a + one!” this past minute. I love you. :*)

So as you guessed, similar to the show, my friends and I are super tight. And for some outsiders, we may come across as this weird community with funny rules that don’t match conventional ways. Sometimes, we joke about creating a cult which promotes an alternative lifestyle, similar to some in the 70s. In short, we’re a weird but very loving and loyal little bunch and especially during this last year, I’ve realized that my friends truly are my second family, as cliché as that sounds.

However, I also know that our group dynamic might not be for everyone and that some people would probably feel a little overwhelmed. And so with that in mind, whenever I was on a date, I started trying to imagine what would happen if I threw my date into this group.

Most of the time, things have ended way before the question of meeting the other person’s friends has even come up. But for the other times, it’s been interesting to watch. Though, I’d say that except for one, most of them managed rather meeehhh – which wasn’t a good sign, of course.

Sometimes, I imagine having people meet my friends who probably won’t be that comfortable with their openness and absence of polite filters. And just for the sake of my own entertainment, I actually invite them to everything. But then I think of how well they would actually fit in the group, and let’s say that I’d rather be surprised if it was a good match.

Now that could be a very conclusive assessment about my personality and my romantic choices. But this text isn’t about me, at least not primarily, so fuck that – I’m perfect.

Yet, I haven’t really met anyone who was comfortable enough with my friends. And since they’re the greatest part of my life, I would never want to date anyone who doesn’t fit in our cute little special group.

Because in the end, if there’s no one to count on, you can always count on your friends.

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Just blogging

Don’t you wanna follow me back?

I guess it’s impossible to run out of topics when you write about online dating, for the better and the worse.

One thing I always found very amusing was the moment when you exchange socials or even a number. When I gave out my number, most of the time I’d be like “Please no dick pic, please no dick pic.” Btw, I don’t understand why guys would send them in the first place. Why not start with other body parts instead? If a pic of your dick is all you have to offer, then I’m just not interested. Or is the dick pic the result of a long time of reflection, where the guy asks himself: What do I have in common with a Greek god? (If you didn’t get that joke, just google Greek god statue and have a look at their penises.)

So, I’m usually not giving out my number very easily. Instead, I like to go with my instagram account. Which is perfect actually, because that way, the dude sees that there’s less of a chance that I’m a 50 yo dude and because that even without adding each other, you can text.

But sometimes I get the feeling that some people aren’t totally easygoing when it comes to staying in touch with someone via instagram. And funnily, the ones who only have like a handful of followers seem to be the thirstiest and the most eager to gain more followers. So what usually happens is that they follow me – which I never asked them to do, I just gave them my handle so that they can stalk me as much as they like, but that doesn’t mean I’m engaging. It’s like doing the starfish in bed, just that it’s on social media. And then, I can honestly just wait for the question: “Don’t you wanna follow me back?” …. And me like:

Seriously, why would you even ask that question? It’s like asking: “But why haven’t you said anything about my new haircut?” Well, it’s ugly af, I’m not to look at that more often than I need to. So sorry, not sorry, I’m not going to follow your shitty insta account. Otherwise, I would have hit that button already. But I didn’t, so just draw your conlusions from that.

But keep sending me nice messages, please.

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Just blogging

What would you do if you died tomorrow?

I know, that’s such a corny question. So corny that it’s close to having a tattoo that says Carpe Diem. So corny that Nicholas Sparks would answer with a poop emoji if you texted him that question. And yet, that question popped into my head yesterday. (Well I guess I have a predisposition for corny stuff, I do love romcoms after all.)

Before I’m getting into details, it’s maybe a good idea to give you some background information first. So for a few weeks know, I’m noticing once again that I probably can’t eat all types of food. I’m sparing you the details, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that my intestins are not reacting well to wheat and/or gluten. And maybe some other stuff, too, since it’s been almost impossible for me to eat anything without some sort of complications. Of course, I’ve already seen a doctor and am currently doing all the exams to know what exactly is causing problems, but so far, there hasn’t been anything conclusive. But I was asked if we there were cases of cancer in my family. My doctor has such great humor.

Now I don’t think that I have cancer or anything severe, but I still asked myself: If that were the case and if I died tomorrow, would I be satisfied with my life so far? Would there be anything I regret? And even though I don’t have any regrets, my answer to the first question would be “It was ok.” Just that, nothing more, nothing less.

Have you heard of the marshmallow experiment? Where kids receive one marshmallow and if they manage to wait for a certain amount of time without eating that marshmallow, they receive another one? The marshmallow experiment supposedly shows who’s going to be successful in life (people who can make sacrifices for now to have a better result later) and who isn’t. I alsways thought I would be part of the latter. Though I would have done pretty well on the marshmallow experiment as I find marshmallows disgusting. But as for everything else, I find it incredibly hard and unnecessary to make sacrifices. My mom would say that’s because of my astrological sign, but I just think, if I can have something right now, why wait? However, I’ve tried to make some responsible choices, and since there’s no one else but me who’s paying for my fancies, holding back on certain things has become rather easy.

I’ve postponed travels because I thought it would be smarter to wait and really plan everything instead of just going somewhere, I’ve partly sacrificed my social life because I want to be successful in my work (and ultimatively earn a shitload of money of course). However, when thinking of the very abstract idea of dying tomorrow, these decisions, as smart as they may be in the moment, don’t seem smart at all. On the contrary.

If I was on my deathbed tomorrow, I would definitely be sad about not having spent enough time with my friends and not having travelled to all the places I wanted to. Also, it would also suck to acknowledge that I haven’t found a person to travel with, yet. I mean it’s awesome to be independent and stuff, but if it means doing stuff alone most of the time, it’s not always that great.

So what’s my verdict from this thought experiment? I sure don’t want to reverse my entire lifestyle. My work and professional success will always be very important to me as will be my independence. So to find a balance between me being somewhat of a workaholic, I will also focus on keeping my friendships strong and building new relationships as well. And I’m also planning my next vacation.

PS: Leave a comment if you recognize the featured image 🙂

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Just blogging

“Being drunk adds value to everything else in life.”

That is by far my most favorite quote from KUWTK! You cannot imagine how much I love Khloé for saying that. As soon as I heard it, I decided: “That’s going to be my motto.” Though tbh, it’s already been my motto, I just never put it in these words.

Funnily, I started drinking kinda late. When I was 17, it was a very good year… No, I was 18, actually. But since I didn’t do the whole take shots-drink-alcopops-and-use-funnels-thing (except for 1,2 occasions), I actually learned how to appreciate wine. Especially because I lived in France during that time.

Not that we don’t appreciate drinking in Germany, we mainly just use less sophisticated beverages. Think about it: Drinking beer at 10 AM is trashy AF. But having mimosas for breakfast is perfectly acceptable. Same goes for wine vs beer at noon.

Besides learning how to appreciate wine, I also noticed that it makes everyone’s company so much more enjoyable. Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when a former boyfriend told me that his family would pretty much empty an entire cellar during one family meeting. And I could totally relate – my family does exactly the same. But it’s not only your family that gets nicer with a few more glasses. I always find myself in way more interesting conversations or situations. After all, alcohol is a social lubricant, why else would they offer it en masse on The Bachelor? Though maybe I should add that I’m very friendly when drunk, I don’t get aggressive, unless there’s a chair I can fight over. (There was one funny incident in a bar. A good friend and I were sitting at a table with 3 chairs and since the bar was still empty at that time, I just put my bag on the third chair. One bottle of wine later, some dude came over and just wanted to grab the chair without asking. So I made this huge fight out of it and ended up yelling at him. I also think my friend was terrified.)

And I rarely get sad, either. On the contrary, I’m usually a little funnier and even wittier, or maybe it just seems like it because my senses are dulled, but I think that I’m at least a little more entertaining in one way or another. I also think that wine makes me more creative. It shuts up the inner critic. That’s why I barely ever write without a glass or two. (Or three, or four, or five…) Also, even though I would never consider me a writer, I’d love to be one. And the great ones, Ernest Hemingway, Edgar Allan Poe, Truman Capote, Hunter S. Thompson weren’t known for their healthy lifestyle and their addiction to juice cleanses. Well, except grape juice.

And aren’t the crazy things you think, feel, say, do while being drunk what makes a great story?

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Just blogging

Thank you!

Friday was my birthday.

If you’ve read my previous posts, you may know that I’m getting super weird around this date, meaning that I find most kinds of human interactions overwhelming or challenging, to say the least.

Honestly, there’s not much that leaves me with as much anxiety as an upcoming birthday. In my past experiences, you have to go through annoying small talk, people you barely know are giving you hugs, you get crappy presents, and it’s pretty much expected that you invite people to cake and drinks. (WTF, why would I have to invite someone if it’s MY birthday?) The prospect of all the potential awkwardness usually makes me wanna crawl into a hole and never come back.

But this year, my birthday has been preety great – even though I didn’t plan anything at all.

So I spent my day at work, which was normal, and then, I had a walk around Cologne and did some window shopping (more or less: I did try on stuff, but was underwhelmed. So all I bought were some nice lotions, that aways makes me happy.) Also, I was SO surprised by how many people have messaged me throughout the day. It was far from what I expected.

A few years ago, I probably would have made a sarky comment about people leaving a comment/ birthday wishes after Facebook invites them to, but today, I had the feeling that all the messages I got (on and off Facebook) were truly genuine. And honestly, they made my day. I was also really happy to get back in touch with people I haven’t really spoken with lately. It was great to reconnect.
Therefore, to everyone who thought of me and sent a message: thank you so much! You don’t even know how grateful I am to have such amazing friends and “family” members in my life and I truly appreciated your messages and I loved the Skype conversations and phone calls.

Also, I was shocked to see what my roommates came up with. We’ve only lived togehter for a few months now, but somehow, they know my taste really, really well, it’s almost scary. Needless to say, it was an amazing surprise. (Though, on the other hand, I don’t think I’m that hard to please. Just give me wine and some pretty clothes. And if you throw in some skincare, I’m in heaven.)

Again, I had a wonderful birthday, so thank you for that!
(Now I only need five more of these to erase my stupid anxiety :D)

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Just blogging

Birthday anxiety

My birthday is coming up and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

Before you think: “Oh right, another chick who can’t handle getting older.”, I don’t care about my age. I’m actually somewhat looking forward to having white hair, wearing makeup that makes me look like a crazy clown and hopefully getting a much deeper voice which doesn’t sound like it belongs to a 13-year-old. (I always wanted my voice too sound more like Scarlett Johansson’s.)

Though there have been mulitple moments where I felt that I’m failing at existing – according to societal conventions – I don’t really care anymore. The last time the thought of having to be an adult stressed me out was right before my 18th birthday. But since then, I found out that pretty much everyone sucks at adulting. Besides, my family seems to have stopped wondering if I’m a Lesbian or not ever since and I’m also starting to find people amusing who ask me about kids and marriage. I’m actually looking forward to never having kids and just spend all my (fictional) money on designer and travels, especially because I can justify all that by quoting Schopenhauer – not that I have to. And I’m almost proud of being an eternal student. You don’t find many of us anymore. These teens nowadays…. they have become so serious, urgh.

However, I do put quite some pressure on myself. Just for the story, it would be so sad if my life was mediocre. So it can either be tragic (which it is already tbh) or fucking amazing. Like spending-all-day-yachting-with-my-friends-and-drinking-champagne-amazing.
I don’t wanna be that tragic figure. (Besides, every tragic figure becomes really annoying over time, that’s why they always end up killing themselves. And I’m over that.)

So there really is no other choice than becoming great. No pressure at all.

But what I really don’t like about birthdays is being the center of attention. Well, I don’t mind being the center of attention, I just want it to be for something I deserve.

But being born is not an achievement. Neither is staying alive, even though that would make much more sense to me. (Besides, I actually like listening to the BeeGees.) But we’re not living in the 1800s anymore, where sudden infant death was a real thing. And thanks to the stigma, being mentally stable doesn’t count as an achievement either.

So I don’t really see the point of celebrating my birthday. And if it’s just for the milestones, I prefer having a party for each single one of those. Seriously, why would I wait a year if I can can get drunk immediately?

One of the first things my roommates asked me after I moved in was the date of my birthday. So apparently, they’re going to plan something.
I just hate that thought. I want to spend a normal day doing what I always do and not having to have stiff conversations around a diabetes-causing cake that’ll make me nauseous. I also don’t want to open shitty presents and smile politely while thinking about throwing this new [insert anything unnecessary/ ugly /unwanted / all of the above] in the trash or reusing it as a gift for someone I hate (or date; I just noticed how similar those two words sound).

I also think that birthdays fall under the same category as NYE. People put so much pressure on them, it has to be the best day of the year. But – surprise! – it rarely is. So you most probably end up diappointed.
The birthdays I remember were days of weird family get-togethers and food poisoning (the real one, not induced by alcohol). And of course birthdays where I felt that something special should happen, but that just wasn’t the case. Instead, they were just like any other day, or even worse.

All that is the reason why I just don’t wanna celebrate my birthday. In my opinion, birthdays are just a compilation of awkward moments. So if you want to make me a birthday present, just spare me.

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Dating

Some thoughts on dating

I’m finally sitting here with the glass of wine I’ve been craving since noon earlier today, I had the weirdest day and kind of started it in a bad mood. Funnily, it was thanks to my students who – let’s be honest – I usually find a little annoying, though they’re also very sweet, that my mood has tremendously improved throughout the afternoon. Anyway, today is my rest day and I’ll also watch the dramatic finale of the German version of The Bachelor later tonight, so why not have some wine to go with it? Besides, my goal for the future is becoming one of PLL’s wine moms. Though without the basement, of course. And now that I’ve written the longest and most unnecessary introduction that has ever existed since the literary era of realism, I can get to the topic I actually want to write about today. (I’m even putting it in italic letters, so if you don’t like long introductions, you can just skip it. Oh, I should have mentioned that in the beginning, my bad.)

Ok, where do I start? If I was a contestant on The Bachelor, I’d say “I feel so blindsided!!” and start sobbing pitifully. But guess that would be slightly exaggerated in my situation, because I’m talking about a two-dates situation. Though in the Bachelor world, being crushed, devastated and losing faith in humanity would totally count as an adequate reaction to not getting a third rose (not even date). Maybe I should apply after all. I mean I already like booze, pretty dresses, free travels and exposing my soul to total strangers. Oh and I wouldn’t mind getting instafamous either.

So I was texting a guy I’ve been on exactly two dates so far after I met him through an app. He actually looked like on his photos and I didn’t hate our conversations. Actually, he was not the kinda guy you’d normally see on a dating app. However, he kinda stopped texting me back not too long after that (which is never a good sign of course) and even on our second date, there were a few awkward mix-ups already. But hey, I’m somewhat optimistic sometimes and so I didn’t mind having someone asking me about playing the violin even though I’ve never touched an instrument before.

Anyway, when I sugessted that we meet up this weekend, he told me that he’s gotten serious with some other chick in the meanwhile. First of all, seriously? How serious can you get with someone in the course of two weeks? And secondly, if you started seeing her before, why even bother meeting me? Especially if she’s really, I mean REALLY awesome. But I guess everyone understands what I’m implying here.

Somewhere in between many more mean, cynical and sarky thoughts (which I won’t share here, I can be really mean in my head), I also started wondering “When is the right moment to discuss what kind of relationship you want to have with someone?”.

As I mentioned in a former blogpost, I’m not opposed to an open relationship. But I think that in order to get there, you have to have a phase of plain monogmay where you get to know each other and especially each other’s boundaries, insecurities, doubts, daddy issues etc. to well establish a certain amount of trust before inviting other people in. Imo, if you don’t do that, you’re just a horny hippie who will most probably need all the drugs you can get just to be able to go through the drama that ensues (in addition to the 17 puberties you’ll have to deal with).

But how do you bring this sort of thing up on a first or second date? When I watched Netflix’ Dating Around, I was actually shocked by how quickly they spoke about future plans and about having children. They hadn’t even had dessert yet! I can’t even describe how weirded out I’d be if that happened to me. But then on the other hand, I will never have the same clarity within the first couple of dates as the people who ask these questions.

But maybe, I like the uncertainty. See, I knew from very early on that I’m not that much of a people’s person. Mostly because I like individuals instead of people in general. I also knew from a quite early age that having a career is more important to me than having an amazing social calendar (except if the social calendar is related to my career). I highly value being independent, to the point that I can hardly imagine living with someone I’m involved with romantically and who I can’t just ignore like my roommates. I guess all these things together are part of the reason why I don’t want to have kids and even why I dislike dogs. But when it comes to dating, I’ve noticed that actually many people fit in rather stereotypical, conservative patterns. Everyone seems to be looking for something secure, a sure thing, something that has the potential of lasting forever. And marriage of course. (My only reasons to get married would be the dress and the party.)

So you can probably say that I don’t exactly convey the security of a stable lifestyle. I move all the time. (I’m not even kidding, I moved 11 times in the last 10 years.) I like putting myself first. And I hate the idea of doing the same thing or person for the next 50 years to come. To me settling down sounds like a death penalty, which I’m very much opposed to.
Instead of getting a Golden Retriever, I want to travel the world and experience things. I definitely don’t want a conservative suburban life. But maybe that’s too complicated. Maybe I should want to wear mom jeans and just be happy. Maybe I’m too difficult by wanting someone who’s adventurous but also knows what he wants instead of trying to keep all options open. Maybe I should be less difficult and lower my expectations, just as some rather simple people have told me to. And maybe I should be less career oriented and valuing family more.
Well no, that won’t happen.

I want to spend my time with someone who shares the same values and who isn’t afraid of commitment. Someone who prefers complexity over comfort. And who’s also insanely hot and smart AF of course. But then again, dating just isn’t a priority for me, even though I have to admit that I do own a copy of Matthew Hussey’s book. But I’m way more interested in communication techniques in general than in attracting guys and finding love. However, if by any chance, you’re a hot guy with great intellect, feel free to drop me a line. But only if you’re a cat person.

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Just blogging

To new chapters in life

Congratulations to me – I started a new job on Friday! Thanks to my addiction to social media, I was lucky enough to get recruited by an amazing company I can’t wait to work for. I don’t want to give away too many details, because you know, privacy and stuff (as if Goolge hadn’t already sold this information, I mean I got there with the help of Maps). But let me tell you, it’s big. It’s prestigious. It’s everything I’ve always wanted. And it’s scaring the crap out of me.

The last time I had a job I put high hopes into didn’t go so well. That was a year ago. And it just went horribly. I even wrote a short post about it, but since I was in the middle of a legal dispute with that company which shall not be named, I of course didn’t reveal to much information. I don’t have to explain that a lawsuit is the shittiest way to end any sort of relationship, even if it’s just professional. So having to go through this sort of experience definitely has an impact. There are definitely some positive aspects to it. First of all, there was a settlement agreement which was in my favor, But I also learned so much about our legal system and my rights. I was also reassured that being a pain in the ass sometimes really pays off, quite literally. But most of all, I learned to pay attention to contracts and fine print. And all in all, I did come out stronger of this experience. I would even say it was such an important lesson that I’m actually grateful for. How many people my age can say they have already sued someone, not to mention a company? That alone is weirdly empowering.

However, it was also a somewhat traumatizing experience. And yes, this may sound very much like first world problems, but with every new job I take, my mind also goes back to that time. And depending on the job, it gives me more or less anxiety.

Right now, my anxietey level on a scale from 1 to 10 is very much like a million. And I get constant flashbacks from this last shitty work experience.
Right now, my fear is not being up to the task. Right now, I feel like everyone puts all their hopes in me, even though I have no idea how to tackle the projects I’m already assigned to. Of course, there are people to help me, people I can ask. But that didn’t prevent a major impostor syndrome from kicking in. After just one day.

So the question I’m asking myself now is: “What could actually stop me from being successful at that job?” And my answer so far is: “Nothing, you just have to get your shit together.”

I mean on a rational level, what could go wrong? That I don’t know what people are expecting? That I won’t know if I’m doing a good job or not? Both are highly doubtable, since my company attachs great importance to giving feedback. (Something that hasn’t been the case with the company I had to sue.) Also, even though I’m the first person in my position, I’m not the first one to do all the work. I don’t have to figure stuff out by myself, There’s always someone I can ask. Also, I was not hired because of the number of followers I have on Insta, but because of my skills. And though the word “skills” kinda seems weird to me – it sounds so meaningful, but it’s nothing more than a summary of my experience – it’s definitely a better reference value than any number on social media.

So I guess I really just have to get over myself and stop second guessing. But putting in the hard work instead. (Which I’m more than willing to do, the company is just awesome!) So despite all anxiety and unnecessary stress fabricated by my brain:
Cheers to me!

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BS on instagram

BS on instagram #1

Catching feelings vs. falling in love

Today, I want to start with a new mini-series on the blog, dedicated to all the BS there is on instagram. My topic today is a stale caption you’ve very probably read on one post or another: “Catch flights, not feelings.”

Urgh! That’s goes right into the category of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard. There’s so much wrong with this statement, I don’t even know where and how to start.

First of all, I hate the expression “catch feelings”. Has anyone even said that, like…ever? Yes, there’s an entry about that expression in the Urban Dictionary, but to me, it sounds like something very stupid to say. Why not simply say “start to have feelings” or does that already sound like too much of a commitment? “Catch feelings” makes me think of the flu. Or any other illness or disease for that matter. And normally, when for example you catch a cold or a flu or whatever, you’re not really involved in the process, not intentionally. No one would ever say “It was your fault that you caught a cold”. (Of course, on one hand that’s because people are being nice and no one dares to point out that the only form of fruit you consume is fermented and that you care more about fashion than about the weather. On the other hand, if some child carrying one of those nasty children’s diseases is coughing right into your face, there’s only so much you can do to avoid getting sick.) In contrast to that, developing feelings for someone makes you an active part. It describes that you’ve been seeing this person a few times. And since it takes two to go on a date, it makes you 50% responsible for the outcome. To me, “start to/develop/have feelings for someone” sounds way more mature. It also sounds like you actually have a say of what’s going on and are not just a – well… victim – of a disease.

That brings me to the second point. Caring about others should not be compared to a disease, and also not give room to that sort of interpretation. Even though, according to Schopenhauer (and I agree) being in love may turn you into an insane person, at least temporarily, caring about others is the best quality human beings have. I’d even say it’s the only thing that makes us decent. If you take away love and empathy from this world, what’s left? I highly doubt it’d be anything worth having. Therefore feeling things and mostly feeling love is not a bad thing. It’s very much the contrary.

The third thing I hate about the phrase “Catch flights, not feelings” is the notion of running away. Only cowards run away. And yes, sure, today so many people have their jet-set life and are all around the globe all the time. Looking for easy hookups and just some fun seems to be all the rage right now. No big commitments equals no big risks. And I get it, it’s a protecting mechanism to not get hurt. But that protecting mechanism will also keep you from finding something deep and meaningful. And if you constantly reject intimacy by fear of getting hurt, you’ll probably end up and die alone, having your face eaten by your 36 cats, until the neighbors complain about a weird smell and then have your disfigured corpse revealed, instead of just gracefully lying in a coffin. Is it that what you want from life? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
So why would people run away from love? Because it’s too scary? Because a relationship is too high-maintenance? Because you have no idea what will happen next? All the possible explanations just seem so lame to me. And again, they’re the words that would rather describe a coward than a mature and respectable human being. Besides, do you know the saying that nothing worth having is easy to get? Well yes, life is pain. But sometimes, it’s worth it.
Besides, if you’re alone, your big jet-set life won’t give you anything if you don’t have someone to share it with. (Your current followers don’t count, since they won’t give a shit about your posts once your ass is flat and wrinkled.) Happiness is better when shared, otherwise it’s nothing but a fleeing moment.

So instead of running away from the possibility of love, why don’t we dive deep into it? And yes, it may be hurtful on the way, but what’s there to gain and what would life have to offer if you’re already dead inside? Also, all kinds of experiences make us grow, the good and even more the bad. And who would say no to some personal growth?

Instead of “Catch flights, not feelings.” I’d rather say “Let’s fall in love and travel the world together.” It sounds super corny I know. But that’s only because – and I’m sure of that – it’s what a majority of people would want.

Now, “falling in love” is very different from “catching feelings”, even though it may not seem like it at first glance. Both give the idea of a sudden feeling that comes over you, giving you no power at all. However, my personal connotation with “falling in love” is much more positive. It make me think of Alice in Wonderland and of Alice falling down the rabbit hole just find herself in a place full of wonders and outstanding experiences. Some of them are scary and daunting, yes, but all very exciting. Besides, she is following that rabbit, she plays an active role and lives up to it. It’s not like something just overcomes her and that’s it. She’s also taking part in what’s happening.

As for travelling the world together, I think that’s a no brainer.

And now here comes a very corny ending for this post: I hope that 2019 is the year where you do have feelings for someone. Someone you trust, who doesn’t make you feel restless but grounded, someone you would want to take anywhere with you.

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Dating

Love & courage

Words can’t describe how I feel right now. I’m in a huge black void, there’s nothing but emptiness. And all I want is to take a break from the world and its mundane matters. All I want is to be surrounded by vast nothingness until I’m ok. Like deep diving diving in the ocean. With all my senses numbed and I hear nothing but my breathing. That’s what I want right now.

We didn’t make any promises, we didn’t have any expectations. Yet, nothing stays as light as may be in the beginning. And even without expectations, you still hope for the best, you even trick yourself into believing that best possible outcome will happen. But then things get too complicated. And we’re in an era where convenience trumps complication. Bold statements seem to be a relic from the past. If there’s even a slight chance of getting hurt, many of us don’t seem to be ready for the dare. And before something has even begun, it’s s the end.

Does no one read books any more? How come that everyone’s trying to play things safe? And what’s the point in that, after all? The great loves are the crazy ones. (Thank you, Blair.) What would we even read if Goethe, Austen, Verlaine etc. had decided that love has to be easy and convenient?
Nothing worth having is easy to get. So why are we so eager to blow things off when it comes to love? Is it fear? Is it a lack of courage? Maybe both?

No one wants to be hurt, of course. But does that mean that we have to be cautious with everything? What happened to the All-in-or-out-mentality? Why aren’t people willing to take risks anymore? In the end, you can never know how things will turn out. Even if you’re happy for 10 years, it won’t guarantee happiness for the next 10 years to come.

So all it takes is a leap of faith and some courage to make things work. And yes, you may get hurt in the process. But is it that important when there’s so much more to gain?

And until you decide, I’ll be here in my ocean bubble.

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