anxiety, crazy, depression, health, life, love, mental health, mind, psychology

I am a Human Being

a human being

 

 – Is anything bothering you? – a psychiatrist was looking through her medical records with no attempt to make eye-contact.

She sighed deeply and glanced up at the ceiling.  She was a human being, and it bothered her profusely, giving her more pain than a wooden splinter stuck under the nail and impossible to remove.

Humans disgusted her; deceitful, greedy, and cruel, they had no sense of purpose or direction. They ate and drank excessively, spoke loudly, and procreated absurdly, exhausting natural resources and not caring much about anyone and anything else on this planet.

Humans’ expanded sense of self-worth was destructive to everything; during the first part of their life, they cultivated their self-importance,  then they did everything unreasonable to protect the formed ego from the pain of clashing it with the reality. Humans could annihilate themselves and others just to defend crazy principles that their minds had previously created.

Humans loved socializing, picking up rumors from each other and spreading panic and chaos to their communities; they called their loss of common sense – undisputed truths and brainwashed themselves through daily news and social media.

Humans created pandemonium, blaming each other for the mess that had been blown out of proportion.

The day she realized she was a human being was a true shocker. She kept nervously pacing the floor refusing to believe that she was like billions of others on this planet. She belonged to the race of psychos that mercilessly destroyed themselves and others thinking that they had the right to be in charge of other species on the Earth.

She was one of those who thought that they were superior, and that they knew how to control the environment and themselves.

She wished she were someone else: a stone, a tree, a cat … but not a totally f*cked up in the head; she wished she could lose her human form and disappear; alas, she was still a human being.

 – So, is anything bothering you? – a psychiatrist repeated the question still not looking up from his notes.

  – No, nothing, – she lied, lying was a part of being human, a very beneficial part at times.

She walked out of the doctor’s office with the requested release to return to work. The fact that she was a human being still bothered her; but she knew that nothing could be done about it, and she should accept the human insanity as a part of her existence on this planet.

crazy, life, love, mental health, mind, psychology

Enslaved by High Intelligence

intelligence

I used to love his personality; he used to be a very warm and affectionate guy.

But things changed with time. Everything human was entirely wiped off his face.  The sincerity of his smile waned, the life in his eyes died, even his hair that used to be soft and pleasant to touch became stiff and brittle.  His warmth gave way to numbness, sardonic grin, glassy look, and a ramrod back.

His mind was purely mathematical; he lived in the three-dimensional world, where everything was thoroughly measured, evidenced-based, and highly logical. Over the years, he kept constraining himself to viewing everything through the prism of numbers, calculations, and statistical significance. In the end, he found himself entirely buried in the conviction that the reality can be observed, touched, assessed, and explained.

He knew that everything has the beginning and the end, and nothing lasts forever. He lived in the world of material women and reasonably prudent men, of social stratification and power inequality, and of blue and white collars.

His mind got caught in the web of black and white, yes or no, true versus false, and conservative/liberal paradigm. He was totally enslaved by his brain and incapable of seeing beyond the acquired life knowledge and experience.

Locked in the matrix of sound judgement, rationality, and compulsory protein consumption, he became extremely rigid and painfully case-hardened. He denied feelings, savagely suppressing love, and proudly discussing the victory of facts over intuition.

The personality was completely gone, but I still loved his penis. It was big and hard, the only thing about him that seemed to function well while his mind was mercilessly imprisoned in mathematical reasoning, composed hypotheses, and evidence-based findings.

crazy, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

The Ideal Woman

fantasy-4023839_1920

After my friend broke up with his recent date, he was plagued and desperate.

 – What was the deal breaker this same?  – I knew the answer but faked curiosity since he needed someone to be here for him, someone to talk to, he looked totally distressed and heart-broken.

 – She was a classic gold-digger.

 – Why?

 – She never gave me blowjobs unless I bought her gifts.

 – You look so damn sad.

 – Of course, I am, – he was crumpling up an empty plastic bottle, nervously dejected, breathlessly discouraged.

 – Sounds like your previous one. You kept saying she loved money more than yourself.

 – Correct, and she was a whore. She looked at other guys, and she was clearly not over her ex-husband.

 – The one who was before your ‘whore’, – I paused suppressing a giggle,  – you told me she was all over you like white on rice

 – Who, Maggie? She was freaking obsessive. She followed me with her ‘I love you’ bull 24/7.

 – Stephanie?

 – Lazy bitch

 – Jen?

 – Liar

 – Wait, – our conversation started giving me headaches, – wait, what about me?

 – What about you? – he quickly threw the crushed bottle in the bin and came very close.

His smell was painfully familiar and brought memories; him and I, mountains and water, sex and cold breakfasts. I slowly stepped back, pounding heart, dry lips, and shaky hands.

 – We were together, what was I?

 – You were one of the biggest disappointments in my life, – he took a step forward, I stepped backward again, unwilling to further feel his smell and recall the past, our past together.

 – How come?

 – You only care about sex and money. You are extremely worldly, and I need a godly woman, I need the princess not a greedy hooker.

– Thanks.

 – Wait! you are a great friend… you will always be my friend, Vixen. 

I know.

I had bad news for him, the news that he would never find what he had been looking for all these years.  Somehow, he fell for the fictional girl’s image blindly and obstinately chasing the illusion, feeling angry and disheartened every time the princess turned out to be an average female who expected gifts, loved money, choked on semen, and hid acne with her make-up. He wanted the goddess but met live human beings fearful and insecure with the unrealistic expectations to find the knight in shining armor so he would take care of the bills and practice monogamous sex under the blanket.

 – I am hopeful you will find your princess one day, – I did not mean it, I knew it would never happen. I was just lying straight to his face, smiling, and hoping that one day he will come back, pay my rent and care about my orgasms.        

     

happiness, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

I Am Average

night-1927265_1920

 – You are very predictable and pedestrian, why am I even talking to you? – Jim was furious. He was always furious around me. I made him extremely angry all the time; angry and horny. I kept telling him we are incompatible, and we should break up, but he never listened.

 – I do not know why you are still with me, maybe you like the way I f*ck?

 – Hell no, sex with you is mediocre.

 – I have no idea than, – I shrugged my shoulders, – You can always leave.

 – If I leave now, you will never see me again, is this what you want?      

 He was right I am very average.

I kill 8 hours of my day in the office, work out several times a week to keep my butt firm and round, drink water to reduce the appetite, and am quiet to look smart.

I love money, chocolate, and flirting with my dentist.

I hate Mondays and crave for Friday evenings 6 days a week.

I routinely pay my bills, desperately fight my age, and love guys who take care of my needs.

I bleach my teeth, dream of a long vacation in Italy, and smell glossy pages of fashion magazines in beauty salons.

I have two hands, two legs, one head, one pussy, money anxiety, and retinol creams on my nightstand.

I am boringly predictable, worldly, and dispickably non-special. I am just an average-looking girl focused on raising the kid and cutting back on carbs, sugar, and salt.

I am an average person having happy moments and issues like everyone else, not trying to lie to myself about extraordinary abilities, special skills, ever-lasting youth, and other crap.

I just live my life aching from push-ups, watching sunsets, and growing roses neither bragging nor complaining about my mediocrity.

 – You love me Jim, – he dragged his gaze away from stocks trackers in his iPhone, tired and crestfallen.

 – Now what?

 – You love me because I am very average.

crazy, happiness, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

When no one owes you anything

happy 

– I want to feel safe. Am I asking too much? – She was desperately crumpling the napkin, sickly dramatic and hysterically panicky.  – What should I do to feel safe?

Her mind mercilessly threw at her ample reasons for being scared, “I will get fired, my boyfriend will stop paying my bills, I will end up broke and in debt, I can’t do much about it, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

Her stable job, the house in a walled community, annual vacations in Spain, and weekends in spa salons did not silence her fears and painful insecurity. Sleeping pills were only a short-term turn-off button, a temporary night relief. Her mornings started with swollen eyelids in the bathroom mirror and the loud cry for help running through her mind and echoing from the walls, the floors, and the ceiling, “I am insecure, please, please, please, help”.

 – Have you ever felt safe?

She slowly shook her head blinking excessively through the cigarette smoke.  – It must be my childhood, it was crappy, I never felt loved, no one really cared, I was abused; physically, mentally, sexually ….

She loved rationalizing her fears, it made her sound smart and romantically miserable.  Her helpless sex appeal attracted men and women, everyone wanted to help, she willingly accepted help; nevertheless, feeling insecure, immature, and lonely.

One day, I ran into her in a local grocery store. She looked so different, so glowing that I could hardly recognize her. We exchanged usual hugs, kisses, and compliments.

My polite “how have you been?” was answered with a brief and quiet smile, I got curious, I wanted to know that was going on.

 – Well, – she took a deep breath and reached out to tofu cheese. She was religiously vegan and crazily passionate about animal rights. She thought animals give unconditional love; she cared for them, and hated humans. – Well, – she repeated, carefully studying the package ingredients, – Rick dumped me.

 – What??? – I felt shocked. Rick was one of her dates, a wealthy guy who gave her descent monthly arrangements and took care of all her bills. – I am so sorry, who is providing for you now?

 – No one.  – she put the tofu back on the shelf and slowly turned around, – I am by myself, and I lost my job.

There was no regret in her voice, she sounded surprisingly calm.

 – How are you feeling?

 – Crappy, and freaking unsafe, – again, her voice was amazingly nonchalant. I sensed no panic, no sorrow, nothing.

 – You do not seem to look that …. that stressed, please… do not think I am saying it to make you feel bad, I am just saying that I am observing…. I… I … -am so sorry…. – I knew my words sounded pretty awful, the more I spoke, the more stupid I felt.

 – No, no, please do not apologize, – she giggled, briefly tucking her hair behind the ears; at that moment, she reminded me of a Disney chipmunk, huge eyes, cartoon smile, animal quickness, and nonchalance, damn nonchalance. – Rick told me he got tired of being treated like a wallet. He said he found a woman, and… and fell in love. And my job… I never actually liked it, I resigned the day before he left, so … I finally got what I was always afraid of: no money, no stability, nothing.

 – What are you going to do?

 – I do not know, – her voice changed, she got more serious, – After all these years of running away from poverty, hunger, and … and from everything that I call unsafety, I ran into it. And it feels different from what I expected. It feels bad, it feels ugly, but it still feels alive. I am still alive, not dead, does it make sense?

I nodded, she continued – Yes, more alive than when I was with Rick, I used him for money and… and for his cock. Craving for safety, I kept taking but never gave anything back. Now, I am unsafe, but I am not craving, I am no longer a safety addict.

 – What are you going to do?

 – I wanna get my hair braided, and then, then I do not know.

 – How are you going to live?

She suddenly broke out in laughter, – like I lived before, my dear, panicky and unsafe. But here is the thing.  – She stopped laughing and gave me a long and expressive look, – No one owes me nothing. No one will spend sleepless nights thinking how to make me feel safe and happy. It makes no sense to use anyone, and to expect anything. Now I get it, it is a relief. It is a f*cking RELIEF!

She proceeded to a check-out, looking nonchalant, skinny, insecure, and happy, crazily happy.