d'un coeur vrai

Pain is never running straight

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 01 Oct 2014 19:43:00 +0000

That’s because it’s running in a maze. It takes time, immense number of iterations, and yet hopefully it will always find its exit before I do.

Did I ever write here that I would like to not, ever again, receive a false sense of happiness? Not a week of it, not an hour, not even a nanosecond? So now I do write about it, if I had not before. I do not need it, I am busy with my small bits and pieces of true happiness. Even if that means I will never have what I most wanted--like really REALLY NEVER--don’t even approach me with lies and fake hope. If you hurt me, you’ll be hurting too. So do not enter the maze. And don’t let more pain into it. I would never understand why you needed that to begin with. It’s inexplainable. There can’t be any sense in one person trying to use another and then kicking them like a dog.

Change everything, because you can

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 24 Aug 2014 17:56:00 +0000

... o man viskam užteks. Pirmąkart išgirsta vasario 1 d. Taip ir liko simbolizuoti būtent tą vėliau sutiktą švelnumą.

"And if you don't get it that you need to return ..

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 08 Jan 2014 20:16:00 +0000

.. I'll make of us the most beautiful memory."

I dare you: I only picked the best ones on the tube.

She is so real.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNItE-tR7Y

The delicate one.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdo_5yYG7wA

The original. Barbara. 1960ies.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PC3pdHgjcyA

The young and hopeful (should never need to sing it).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjBL43LWbGs

She got mixed up in the "not the seaman's wife" line
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkBNEnGj2XI

Sweet. Now he made her cry.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvbU7dJui2w

The real woman again. Because jazzy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDJUvd05xa0

Chanteur male.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ztqs_4blCTE

Duo.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7uRDqoLURA

Duo. Too young to understand.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t69pDkoTYX0

It's like the best wine.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mi-Nxv8411o

Wet. Dramatic.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=166LqqdFXdA

Me again. In case if lyrics was not easy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9vpK7JYuxI

And that's how I remember hearing it the first time ever.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wXmI3H2qN4

Piano piano.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U8CK7Ioqba4

.. Did you get it?
No..

And you are.

And still

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 08 Nov 2013 21:16:00 +0000

So there is really no elegant way to post music from youtube via mobile to here yet? Me? I'm doing well. There are these things--Memories of Happiness--that found their way to me (although I do not think I had encountered anyone name the phenomenon that way). I'm alone in them, and that is... groovy (?). Like that heart-squeezing (no, indeed that must have been lungs contracting) elation when I jumped into the lake on a cold September morning. And still.

I have accepted, internalised it. During one worst moment, the worst of me came and really damaged Hope. It was the only model of behaviour that I knew, in those circumstances. I'll cary the consequence with me until the end.

So yes. Just let me remember the HAPPY of the cold calm water hugging me. Let me forget some other HAPPIES. To forgive is to justify everything. And luckily I am through that, too. I'm through with everything now. And Still. Do you hear me when I say I am so, so sorry. Again and again and again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xc-oGWPlFVA&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Kurzweil undressed.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 14 Jun 2013 05:51:00 +0000

For Kurzweil's predictions to come through.

A spy

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 17:23:00 +0000

From a random comment on G+:

You have to wonder how interested he was in her, to simply walk away like that.

Sums it all up. E., you could have been a hero. She is instead. (By the way, how dare you call her "girlfriend"?)

2008 was similar

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 01 Apr 2013 16:44:00 +0000

When they say they can’t remember snowy Easter like this one, I recall the Easter of 2008. March 23, 2008 was a cold day, and just as this weekend, I wore a winter coat.

Did I aspire to be much more than I am today, five years ago? Of course I did. Everything seemed still possible. True love, all the good associated to it, and what not. It was around Easter 2008 that the dreams and what was demanded of me individually to attain them started weighting on me, I felt I had no support, and with time I stood more and more alone. To make it harder, there was no one to turn to for advice. The feedback I was receiving from my friends was also: they were tired, they were doubtful, or my “situation” was incomprehensible to them. I bet they were being polite and would not have told me what they thought: that I was hitting the end of the road. But I clearly remember that I knew that myself upon exiting the church on that morning of March 23, 2008. Would I, given a chance of time travel, choose to return to April 2008? I might. The idealist in me thinks that I could have been a bit more humble, and bit more patient than I already was. The realist in me contradicts that “no”, my dignity had been exhausted. I was fishing for positive signs, and I was very much tired.

If anything, I’ve learned a lesson: I was not, I would not be given mulligans in my life. Ever. It’s just me, I can’t get them, or I did not deserve them, or I was not showing signs of desperation, or I wasn’t beautiful enough, maybe—I do not know about the true reason. And I’m ok with that too. I accept the fact, not the injustice of it (which I still perceive). It doesn’t matter that I had given the mulligans away for others. To celebrate my knowledge, last week I abandoned the meeting spot when a person I was supposed to meet did not show up on time. When she called me up, I made her look for me elsewhere. After all, I was just giving away an old camera of mine. I was not giving away my time or my friendship, or any part of me. It felt good to know that I won’t be riding someone else’s trouble rollercoaster anymore. No cruelty against me is allowed. Better never be loved (but better yet, be loved!).

***

At the end of the same year Slumdog Millionnaire, the most impressive romantic movie ever, appeared. Coincidentally, I watched it on TV yesterday. I watched it with different eyes. And yet that reverse time lapse of events shown in the movie’s last scene is what happened to me during these last years.

Happiness is pricey.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 21:19:00 +0000

So out of this story of cancer, and caregiving, and taking rage, and holding despair... You know what? Poof! The sense of injustice is efficiently dead. Helplesness is no more. What's lost no longer counts.

It's time. It's time to stand up. And laugh into God's face: You Silly. You thought you'd break us. And now you can't. It was all in vain, and nothing counts and nothing is more important than... holding the one you love, at no matter what price. And what we sacrifice... it's just taking a detour, a longer, more painful way, but as soon as we arrive there, we FORGIVE. God, you lost this game with me.

My heart is beating in a different way
Been gone such a long time and I feel the same
My heart is beating in a different way
Been gone such a long time

My heart is beating in a different way
Been gone such a long time

You lost and I'll take HOPE. Not as a price, as a war casualty. Which is on Your side.

OK. So I wasn't under influence when writing this. These last three months kept me extremely sober. I just finished watching the season 2 finale of the _Suits._ I hope embedding the video still requires to confirm your age if you want to watch this. And, People. This is not "angry sex" scene. This is "open communication-HONESTY" scene. Just brilliant, yes it is.

If you choose to hold me

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 23:12:00 +0000

Finished this week off with a sense of profound gratitude. I'm in a land of broken angles, a wonderland, a space where everyone is a traitor. Everyone but... These people explode their emotional maturity and wisdom and strength. In your face. I don't know if it can exist, the feeling of being so connected, so secure, so sure. So True, after just a few times when no one was there for you, but THEY were.

In my life where I keep my end of the deal, and ask for nothing. If you choose to stay, to not disappear on me, I will remain grateful. Always.

Plausible resolutions

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 08 Jun 2012 16:30:00 +0000

Being close to a cherished solution has always been the worst punishment of my life. Can't connect it to my childhood or whatever obstacle that would have taken me onto that path of plausible resolutions dissipating into the thin air. There was nothing of that kind. Not that I can recall of.

Let's define it first. Plausible resolution is an event which, in case of it happening, would change a situation to a better.

For me it's usually a new chance. A new project. A chance to start anew. I am in this limbo right now. The thinking is so simple, and so human. If I secure the budget of X, be in place P, start a clean slate, it would be close to perfect. It would be perfect time to try for the very last time. This is what a plausible resolution is.

Happens all the time.

Happens to other people. Me? Something at the very critical moment will not work out. But for once, for once things have to take a good turn? Otherwise people would fail professionally, and never build families. Never truly love. There would be no children. That is not true. People succeed and they grow old with their school sweethearts, and they raise children. And most, most have lives full of hardship but also of delight.

Me too, I want loads of hardship. I want a little, meager, tiny happiness. Floating in the giant boiling pot of hardship. I say yes. I take this deal.

I miss

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Apr 2012 23:44:00 +0000

... the illusion of: safety, future, intimacy, OJ, wind, water, sun, trees, webcam, time, desire, waiting, and more time waiting, cryptic caress of the ring finger, open window, open promise of making me a parent, silent phone, sound of furniture being pushed - and of nothing else - on the phone, faith, hope, wings, meatballs, order, counting, shopping, tulips, cherries, pizza, cuts, scars, accident of the core, cortisol, more cortisol than blood running through the veins.

It took all this time to come to terms that whatever it was, it was just as precious as if it was genuine. We take things imperfect, and we facet them into what matters. Unless we don't want to.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 26 Aug 2011 18:48:00 +0000

I‘m back from visiting the little town where, hold your breath, my first love happened.

Contrary to the usual storytelling, contrary to what I might have publicly admitted, my first love was not a thing immaculate in its idea and form. It had grown, over years that it lasted, into a drive of strongest carnal desires. Except that they were not acted on. Nothing, never. He and I never exchanged a single hug. And yet it was so engulfing, so baby-yerning. And so profoundly influential for the rest of my lifetime.

He taught me that work-related excuses are alright. Hello? At 15! He taught me wicked patience. Anyone still remembers what waiting for snailmail feels like?!

And the key effect it all had on me: I normalised the feeling of not being cared for.

And I loved him. Oh I loved him so much. He would have been enough.

So I was there, in the little town of my first love, of course for things completely unrelated to the business of the first love. And the first thing I hear upon arrival is that while he was there a week before, he was asking about me. Asking a lot of questions.

When I read this (where a woman says men were contacting her to express they were sorry for how they treated her 20 years prior), I took it with a grain of skepticism. Now something similar has happened twice to me. It makes me very, very sad. With all my training in the cognitive/behavioural field, I still have to fight the thoughts of “Had they loved me, they would have stayed with me Then. We could have had the wondrous life so many others live Now.”

I did not ask what his questions were about. I did not ask for anything about him. Not out of pride. But under a burden of knowing: they did not care when I most needed them to.

Unbearable weight of a thing that might not even exist

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 19:38:00 +0000

Last year, my brain scientist friend revealed to me his reality of: humans do not have free will. I do not know. I want to believe I have a history of exercising my free will. Life's beauty is overcoming the forces of Newtonian physics and breaking out into a newer, larger trajectory. In fact, you do not need free will per se, all you need is discontent with status quo. Ultimately, all you want is to reach the finite heights. The funny thing, a lonely individual will never be at that apogee. Herein lies the tragedy of individualism.

This (now ending) week brought some shocking newsflashes regarding ‘free will’ (whatever it might be).

1. salon.com’s Cary Tennis: children of divorce might be conditioned to opt for single parenthood;

2. Scott Stanley: the cohabitants do not even self-select into cohabitation (they do when we talk about statistics-effects, but no, do not "do" really);

3. The Economist: innocent people have a strange and worrying tendency to admit guilt, even when not tortured.

And while we probably should be all worried about #3, it's #1 that I am very concerned with. I do not know how about San Francisco (where Cary lives), but on my side of the planet, children of divorce are the most honest individuals regarding marriage and children. You won't see them stringing their partners for years without commitment. They are clear about disliking marriage if they do, otherwise they have high esteem for the institution, and oftentimes consider it to be the very best chance at Happiness and fulfillment that was ever given to humans. A good chance to redeem their parent's faux pas. They do not choose single parenthood over a family: not giving two married parents to a child is the worst thing that can happen to us as parents. No. Being raised by a single parent gives you very clear ideas of responsibility and (quasi-insurmountable) hardships, not a scheme by which you “just know” how to do something. So here. Duh, Cary.

Frustrated

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 21:05:00 +0000

Frustrated about all the funny signs. Doesn't take a clue of what ~I~ do not enjoy talking about! (Let's talk about... uh well, there are plenty topics I dislike, so maybe this can kick my ass). Comes through too strong! (LOL, am I not able to imagine problems?). Lack of mystery! (Thank Goodness). Seems to have two feet on the ground! (what, no la-la-land, no immature jokes about animals from anime when I burn under serious burden of needing to be heard and consoled?).

Nah, nothing tangible yet, just the first sniff.

Not a "Bad Boy". Gee, let's keep discounting bad boys.

A scientist, however. High chance: not an NT. There is no way under the Sun I'd let an Aspie into my life.

T.B.C.?

Frank Sinatra – Once I Loved (O Amor en Paz)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 05:30:00 +0000

The Manual: A True Bad Boy Explains How Men Think, Date, and Mate--and What Women Can Do to Come Out on Top by Steve Santagati

This is a hilarious and fun little book. I've been discounting the "bad boys" all of my life, but two conclusions pop after reading it: 1) the Stable Man very well might appreciate being treated like a bad boy; 2) "bad boys" are sweet toys that make women feel good in the interim while the dream guy is not yet with us.

View all my reviews

Save it in your smile send it to the moon say it like you don’t care

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 10:16:00 +0000

Today I totally snoozed and dreamt of a white dog, running with me along the seashore (not a "white like an angel dog", no, this was a light yellow-white Labrador or similar). It's been a really long time since I dreamt of sea waters (I know what they meant in my life, yay!), but I doubt if I ever dreamt of a loving white dog with me.

But then the dog died, or I think he did... Gosh it must be about one of the two things. I was listening to some psychology blab mp3 last week, and it urged "remember how love feels! Whether it was in the eyes of a child, or of a dog" - that was no good, I thought. People in any kind of crisis should not be subjugated to an Eureka moment ("well, maybe I was never loved in an adult manner, but hey, certainly a dog has loved me" - what the heck, therapists?). Or it could be about this crush I just had. This person gently entered my days, and just like that, left in a detached way, too. A totally positive force guy (unless, could have also been a total player - wait until she is enough interested, then pull the rug from down under, see her crawl begging, rinse and repeat - has happened too many times, never again!)! I felt so alive, so hopeful, so interesting - this is all how women prefer to fall in love. We fall with ourselves, when we are loved. I hadn't had a single crush since spring 2009. Mind it, a crush [is so much less than wanting a lifetime meaningful relationship, less than wanting sex]!

I'm glad that the dog in the dream let me cry out my frustration. I just think I will be watching lots of puppy love videos for a while. That said, no more perfect song (and video) than "Lose This Child" - Eatliz.

Shall We Dance

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 19:58:00 +0000

Today really made me look for a curl-up and cry-perfect experience. I suffocated my impulses and instincts, I sat on my arms, I DID NOT DO WHAT I WANTED TO DO THE MOST. For one day today, I am so, so deeply unhappy, upset, judged, devalued. Not my doing. The important is that I did nothing to make it worse. I did not inquire, nor did I tease, nor think of a sweet way to have my foot in between the door. I completely accept me. And therefore there is no place for acting out. No place for pleading. I wish I had this wisdom of life six years ago.

Can't remember who, most probably that lousy penpal with a Najad boat, had once blogged that "Shall We Dance" (2004) was a poor rerun of a classic movie. Which resulted in me never watching it.

Today I did. Damn it it was good!

"We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet ... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things ... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'."

Never think that what you do does not affect lives of other people. This should be enough to unsettle you. But if you aspire for your life to not become unnoticed, then dance, love, work, and, damn it, try your best to find, keep, and cherish the one witness. Or, much better, start with that.

Thoughts of a walking cactus :)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 04:25:00 +0000

I think I came up with an idea of what divides people the most when it comes to meeting each other, coming to consensus in personal-level decisions. Those who grew enough to reach for every day to a mindful one know that we depend a lot information that we have. There are informational "requirements" that need to be fulfilled in order to arrive to a decision, to act on the decision (or to bow out). The "issue" arises when one person's A "info requirements" depend on person's B "decision material"; and vice versa. Someone has to give up on receiving their "info requirements" prior to acting on concerted decision... And it is sad. It is sad because it points to my limitations - I know that my "required info" is not a matter of compromise, and there is no way at all to first decide, and then to find out the truth for me. It's sad, inflexible, but here we go.

Yes I would rather be fern. I want the water, the modest sunshine, the lavish shadow, the mushy softness - all that nurture. But instead, I'm a cactus. They get cactusi for people who cannot get over themselves and water their flowers properly. I might just do well in the sand in a desert, not in a neglected house.

Major Milestone.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 17:18:00 +0000

No, it is nothing radical :). It's not a new me, or a lottery won. But hello... this is the raw me. Happy, inspired, waiting for good things to be. An entirely vulnerable me.

"come sweetie pie I know you have all the power to hurt me; I do not look forward to learning anything about the world's order from you and me, nor for adventure, come see if you can love me, that is all, THAT is so MUCH."

music of the day: Band of Horses - The Funeral.

[this entry is intentionally empty]

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 18:50:00 +0000

Attachment friendly, but shy!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 02 Jun 2011 16:15:00 +0000

I finally gave it to reading the entire “Attached” by Amir Levine and Rachel Heller. It is a very useful publication, even if I am very securely a person with “secure” attachment style. What I lack is a good radar for maltreatment. Which, in combination with my empathic abilities and patience equals disaster when overstaying in emotionally abusive relationships. The book provides lots of food for thought on how to train yourself due diligence, so that you can recognise and leave the scene with an avoidant person in it timely, nick it all in the bud. However it is somewhat doubtful that young people with no experience of avoidants’ abuse will pay attention, or that it can help 30+s to land in a honest coupledom after being dog-trained by even one bad apple, avoidant partner.

I am sorry I still take this judgmental stance. Basically it would be non-PC for book authors to say that avoidants are no good news for anyone (the worst news, they do not sustain enough attraction with their equals, other avoidants, and often go after anxious people and torture them denying their most human needs!), but that’s what the book is about. It even warns about friends setting you up with a romantic prospect (which I surely had thought was the best way) – they might have the best intention, but zero knowledge about a person’s attachment style. Just like secure people, avoidants come in all shapes, forms, personal styles, education levels and social stratae. They might seem very OK to everyone who is not in their inner, most intimate circle. The best message I took away from the book: “if you can be with anyone, it does not mean you have to.” I think I had the reverse version of it engraved into my mind, coming from classical knowledge of social psychology: willingness and dedication makes a great, successful relationship between any two people possible, even likely. Well, 15 years ago they failed me by not telling that willingness and dedication are unnatural, threatening, painful, confusing for a large group of people. And that statistically, they are more likely to roam around, just because that is how numbers work.

It seems that a buddy found me, and we might stay for indefinite, daily conversations. Which is healing. Which is telling me that there are giving, gentle, good people around. So what if they are a bit young for me. It’s OK. Low investment – low payoff can do wonders, if no one starts to act stupid. That’s still preferable to relationships with pets.

It’s possible to get life working for me. Still, by proxy, since it means spreading myself thinner than I’d want to, “circular dating”, but it’s much much better than living a lie, seeing the one person whom you love with all of your essence to never grow up into someone who can act minimally honourably towards you. That is no way to live. Rinse and repeat. I have no right to forget that.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 23 May 2011 19:32:00 +0000

I am surprised. It might be this new type of information that started coming up to me lately, or it is just a phase. There has been some turmoil, overlapping responsibilities, commitments I could not make (to my huge regret) because of time conflicts lately, but on a personal level, I am so much more at peace than before. The month of May, however, carries remnants of that stressful existence, the memories I would rather not have, the paralyzing brain chemicals that I associate with those memories. I look into the eye of the matter from a safe spot now, and do not lie to myself. I really, truly loved in my life. Most of the time, I tend to say I regret it. Most of the time, I try to discipline myself into thinking of only one scenario - living a honest life, no matter what, either forever regretting the past times, or praising the incredible luck if I receive what I so yearn for. If I can rejoice in anything, it is that I am the truest of "me" right now, and however shy I am to tell the entire world... life is not linear. Sometimes it is healthy to cling to a dream for longer than anyone normal would. Sometimes it is very OK to love an enemy. Those experiences teach us to recognise people, situations. And they destroy chunks of who we are. Undoubtedly.

One real thing that needs to be said, I am sorry - but only apologising to myself - for the angry words I had left mostly here on the blog, while there was so little anger, and so much of sadness, loss, and still - gentleness in me. I am sorry I let my own angry expression give grounds to self-doubt, that followed, somewhat naturally. I had to let everything that was meaningful for me go, so now I would better tap myself on the shoulder because I acted very humanly, while there was no one - no one at all - to give me a hug or advice for weeks, months.

Yesterday a 21 year old driver killed 2 people on the street (rather, the pavement!) in Vilnius, and injured several more. One of the two dead was a 1 month old baby. His/her mother is in the ICU. Darn statistics, right? Because there is statistical probability for shit like that to happen, and then there is statistical certainty for a thing like that to happen. I could just as well be that woman. Would I like to wake up to a knowledge my child is dead? I'd choose to not be born myself. What would happen of my family after such event? Impossible to say. Would I have chosen to not even meet anyone to have kids with, had I known something of a statistical certainty of something like that to happen to us? Impossible, once again, to know.

So back to the "information flow". These seemingly random tidbits of people's thoughts I notice as so much applying to my life? What are they? My brain reacting to knowledge I wish was instilled in me in my childhood, but that due to a misunderstanding was never given to me? To the fragile me of several years back, sent via time machine:

And someone who loves you, even if he can't say the words, thinks the best of you. When someone tells him things to the contrary, he asks you, "Is this true?" [source]

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 May 2011 20:02:00 +0000

This is out of line even for the snarky me to post, but as it happens to be the best - by my estimation, by Evan Mark Katz:

"There are a decent number of men out there who don’t really desire the same kind of relationship as you do. Their needs are met by their male friendships and their careers and the last thing they want to do is hold your purse when shopping at Nordstrom.

You can tell who these men are because when they’re not with you, you don’t exist. They’ll call you once a week to hook up and that’s all. These guys play on their terms, not yours and are a total waste of time (...)" [Source].

Funny that a purse holder (albeit in a situation very much different from shopping at Nordstrom), is my ideal of a relationship.

of Eurovision

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 15 May 2011 08:06:00 +0000

After many years of zero interest, I watched Eurovision song contest again. Splendid show, and a beautiful winning song.

I find it funny that a song like this would be written by Swedes. I understand that for decades when feminism was more important than sense and clarity, Swedish mothers shunned attachment theory and resulting adults consider “need you” or “adore you” to be straight out of codependency arsenal. A very hard place to be if certain areas in your brain did not get refilled with market thinking instead (yes, what Sweden’s Eric Saade said: “I’ll be back, not to Eurovision, but to international market” - WTH, do all Swedish dudes say shit when things end without them triumphing?) So until times change fully back and attachment is appreciated, the song gets sung by Azerbaijanis.

“Running Scared” filled me with warmth. But beware, if you feel that scared feeling of fragility they are singing of after 3 months of an ongoing relationship, I’d say there is something very wrong. Check if it is not a one-sided appreciation.

A borrowed idea of another flash mob

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 15:48:00 +0000

"Whose feast is a wedding?" is a question I had often asked myself. As any big party that has nothing to do with "real life" (and wedding - with Marriage), I imagined sleepless nights and fear of failure that the bride goes through. I imagined the silent, avoidant groom tapping away on his computer while the lady is breaking her virtual bank trying to fit in a nicer center-piece. I experienced, in fact, a groom's father leave mid-wedding furious, having said something (was that consequential since that very moment, was that a threat, a promise to work on destroying me?) to me, a self-paid guest from another continent, actually. Surely, I have a very little reference when it comes to these things. Weddings, I was sure, were pretty futile, and something to avoid.

On the other hand... just maybe! A wedding can be this fantastic, full of life, joyous act of unconditional love and support from those around you. It all depends on people. The bride can be organised and very business-like. The groom can be... loving and understanding (most probably are, nowadays - men with no honor do not marry), and the families can be stable and loving. Unconditionally loving, with a streak of wild humour.