I am forked.
I’ve just realised how profoundly forked I am, and not only in the head.
There’s this duality going on with me.
I am clinically independent. Shit will go down, like it’s apocalypses and I’m the devil, if I even get a slight sniff that somebody tries to stick their fingers into my privacy.
I honestly do not forking listen to any advice given to me. I pretend I do, because I am polite and raised according to regulations of uptight USSR society – please feel free to talk trash ’bout me, ‘cos you’re apparently older and my upbringing does not allow me to backhand you, like I soooo long to; and thank you for crushing my none-existent self-esteem, but then again I don’t need it, ‘cos my only purpose is to cook soup and produce babies, while my husband beats the crap out of me; and smile, forking smile, bitch!
Thus, you can faintly imagine what allergy I’m spotting thirty years later to any and every opinion about what I should do with my life and how I should appear while doing it.
Which is not flying well with the male population.
I’m like – Hey, dear, I am what I am and if you don’t like it, well, “hit the road, Jack!”
Buuuuuut! And here’s a twist – before I say “fork you, man!” I am this lovey-dovey “haha” girl. I am such a doll, listening and gaping – huge impressed eyes glittering in the electric lights. I’m downright romantic and completely “damsel”. Oh, honourable knight, thy strength and bravery touched mine fragile heart and it flutters.
I am all about happy life, babies and dying together; and there’s where misunderstanding happens, ‘cos I am in for “family” life, but I am not down for “traditional gender roles”.
My family forked that good.
(Warning unpopular opinion! You’ve been warned!)
Listen, I am honestly gawking, because I am amazed by men. How did you survive? Life is so forking unfair to you. Women like to moan about not beeing treated right, and all-right I should give credit where credit is due – some women are suffering, buuut news flash, so are men.
Do you honestly think that men are not abused, raped, molested or treated unfairly? Seriously!? The only difference is that, you know, they cannot moan ’bout it, ‘cos it’s unmanly. So, yeah, bullshit.
Anyway, this dialogue should happen when rabid part of Earth’s population dies out, ‘cos right now it’s not possible….and it was not my point.
My point was…I am forked.
I’ve realised that I do not want a “conventional relationship”. I give you money, you give me sex, and may be a meal, sometime and then I sometime do some constructing shit, you pretend you cannot do, like I pretend I have no idea how to put a kettle on.
Screw this shit!
We are together. So we are getting the shit done – guess how – together!
There’s nothing I cannot do myself (google+youtube). I am settled. Trust me. I don’t need nothing material from you.
No. I don’t need a baby nor a room-mate. I need a partner – actually, screw that – I don’t need another person – I just wish I had someone for me.
I haven’t had anyone just for me; to be in my corner; to pick me; to conspire and dream with me and then build, build, build and laugh and cry and fly – together. I wish someone to care for and share with.
I would like to love and be loved. That’s all and I love my solitude even more, until, I don’t, so I am forked.
Doesn’t make any sense, does it?