I love you quite a lot. Each day you put me through this, I will love you a little less. Only because this is torture for me. I wish you would understand that, or do you know what you are putting me through and you are still doing it? I hope not. You may have won an argument today because I always yield, but you lost me a little bit. You are losing a little bit of me each day, and one day you would have lost me completely. We will just be two people under the same roof, leading a very mechanical life. Will you wonder then what had happened? Or will you think that is normal? 

Some times I try to understand things from your perspective but I don’t get it. Why would you throw me under the bus every time? Please choose me once.

Traveling lady, stay awhile
Until the night is over
I’m just a station on your way
I know I’m not your lover

Well I lived with a child of snow
When I was a soldier
And I fought every man for her
Until the nights grew colder

She used to wear her hair like you
Except when she was sleeping
And then she’d weave it on a loom
Of smoke and gold and breathing

And why are you so quiet now
Standing there in the doorway?
You chose your journey long before
You came upon this highway

Traveling lady stay awhile
Until the night is over
I’m just a station on your way
I know I’m not your lover

– LEONARD COHEN

Once in a blue moon, you will hear a song, one you haven’t listened to in a long time, then you will hear it again, and again and again. Some songs are meant to be played all night on repeat. Then you realize, it’s more than music, or mood, or a nostalgic memory. It’s because the lyrics is speaking to you, then you hold on to that tenderness, for as long as you can.

I am looking much more better with my glasses on. By glasses I mean the spectacles I found inside an used cupboard I bought. And when I say I look better, I mean the blurry image of myself I see in the mirror, the image is taller, thinner and has a more symmetrical face. I guess I can do away with the image being blurry. If only everyone had my glasses.

A lot of people I know are getting engaged / married, and I have a lot of “photographer” friends on Facebook, and they all have their own photography “pages” and have been very nice about inviting me to “like” their pages. And then I have few of those “model” friends as well, they don’t have pages for themselves yet, but I think it’s only a matter of time – keeping my fingers crossed. And soon, I expect a model friend to marry a photographer friend and live up to the stereotype, and then there is that epic Facebook drama that will follow their statistically probable divorce, again, fingers crossed – but I am digressing.

I know you are not wondering about the relation between engagements/marriages/photographers/models, but I have to tell you anyway. They’re all posting their “professional” photos on Facebook and I find it, well, annoying. I mean, they are all looking so darn beautiful and I hate it!  When I say beautiful, I don’t mean the natural beauty the poets poet about, I am talking about the oh-so-adorable plastic barbie look. Everyone is looking so spotless and perfect, some of them even look like wax statues of their parents. I guess I was a little too late when I found out about the whole “plastic is the new black” thing and now it has become mainstream, is it too late to embrace it ?

I guess not, I am gonna call up one of those photographer guys who constantly text me to “like” their photos, and then I am gonna have my photo “professionally” taken, then edit the crap out of it till I look all glossy and plastic.

Ladies, now if you will please raise your glasses for my contribution towards bridging the gap between men and blow up dolls.

He told me he was Death and that my time was up.