I like women who know what they want. I like their vulnerability when I ask them what, to me, seem self-evident questions. I like the paradigm-shift from the initial surprise of being asked to the moment they tell me. The nakedness of that instance and the warmth of acceptance they feel when they realize that there couldn’t have ever been any wrong answer.

It was never about me wanting to know what they felt: I knew that, or at least felt it. It’s always been about them seeing that I see it deep within. I carefully choose my words. In fact, by the time you read this, I might have re-writen it 43 times. (carefully note that 43 = 42 + 1). It’s never about me having to know. It’s always about me having to be discovered in surprise. I hold delivery in high esteem. Now what the fuck/frak – or whatever derogatory, defulatorry* word you enjoy having lying around – is that all about?  Surely it can’t be that difficult to see!
*(English actually doesn’t have a proper expression for the meaning of the original word: it only provides … well … ‘vent’ vs défouler).

As much as I like to – only amongst friends – joke about myself as the holder of absolute truth, I truly have no ideea. Truth of the matter is that this is just an introspection. I often think that this is the most difficult and most erosionous* thing we could do to ourselves. This is why I tend to give most credit to people who have done it and come out alive. This is why I hold this above all other human endeavours. I guess it’s a bit of “know thyne enemy and know thyself “…
*That’s not an actual word 

… it’s the wrong kind of  place to be thinking of you. it the wrong time …

It takes courage to stare down into the face of the abyss, knowing that the abyss always stares back at you; that‘s what he was on about. Truthfully, we all strive to be Nietzscheans*: the apotheosis of all things we hold powerful and true. The apotheosis of … perfection (highly pretentious words). Why? Acceptance!(?) Core. Self validation!(?) That has to be it. Surely: I !!! No other value can be higher than ‘I’! None. I am it … bar none.
*That’s also something some dreamer once made up

I know what I want. I know I like women who know who they are and act acordingly.

It’s never been about making them uncover veil after veil. It’s never been about making them fulfill their “true potenttial”. To me, it’s much more subtile than this. It’s about the utter joy in realizing that, after someone made you see in yourself what you only aspired to, made you realize you were what you had always wanted to be, that they had done this selflessly, in spite of feelings we often disassociate with such states.

I find it sad to live in times where such statements are … relevant. When such things have to be spelt out loud. These are self-evident truths. Should it then be possible that love and knowledge of self and kindred selves are not mutually exclusive? Why that’s preposterous!! There must be something else behind it. And if there is … ? Then I cannot … . But if they know that I know that they know … ? Hmmm ….

… i choose my words very carefully …

I find it harsh and cinic that we’ve come to regard genuine love, the one that makes you … well … you, without requiring, without wanting you to trade, the ones who sense the smell of your skin even when you don’t, the ones who don’t keep scores and who don’t expect … as a charade. It’s blatant. It’s abusive, demeaning and irresponsible. It’s …

I rant … I do. It’s a small crime …

Facuta la Muzeul Antipa, la Expozitia de Pesti si Plante Exotice, in Noaptea Alba a Muzeelor.

Later edit: La 5 minute dupa ce am publicat post-ul, vad pe Fulgerica link-ul la aceasta poza cu doi melci

Facuta in padurea Zaval din judetul Dolj.