Date a Guy Who Writes

Date a guy who writes. Date that someone who doesn’t concern too much being the best looking man in the world. The guy who doesn’t toil for minutes or hours in front of the mirror. He spends an ample time in his room, or on a solitary bench in a public park, or on train and bus stations with his pen and notebook formulating the perfect words, putting life in his lines through wordplay, writing the loveliest poems. He doesn’t mind being alone on weekend nights in the back-alleys or risking his life climbing the roof just to have an unobstructed view of the sky, to muse with the stars and summon a conversation with the moon. He doesn’t mind battling the cold that bites his skin as long as he tunes the right melody for the song he’s writing for your anniversary,or a guaranteed chapter entry on his book, that he is anticipating to give you on your birthday. Yes, he doesn’t loathe the fact that he is stuck in that place, in that moment in time, squeezing his brain, while his friends are out there, in the open drinking to the high of weekend parties, dancing in smoke-filled bars and drowning to barrels and barrels of liquors.

Find a guy who writes, a walking cliché of kill-you-with-words, and when you do, make no mistakes letting him go. His wit, his spontaneity, rapture and heart for aesthetics will suffice for all those romanticism you have in mind. Date that someone who doesn’t kill himself in gyms, just to have the perfect body, the manly facade and never go for the too neat, too clean— you will discover over time that it is dragging and lame having a partner, a man who spends on shower threefold longer than you do. Date a guy who doesn’t dream having the Brad Pitt’s face, but the one who reads, learns and writes like of John Keats romance’s. The one who seeks for Stephen King’s thrill and the war stories of Ernest Hemingway. Date a guy who doesn’t give you a litany of promises lost in the haze of cheap talk, date that someone who acts, who makes you feel you are special even before you find yourself versed in one of his poems, resembling one of his story characters. Date that someone who stays with you, dream with you and writes random nothing on your palm or on your arms, because he fears that the words won’t come out right when he starts speaking them.

Date a guy who writes, the one who can skim the oceans in your eyes and write a line about it, that someone who can swim in it just to string those lines to make a stanza and can drown there if that’s all it takes to combine those stanzas into a beautiful work of poetry. Date a guy who can translate the amber glow in your face into haiku and sonnets. That someone who never tires scribbling his pen in dire search for muslin haze for streaks of clarity.

When that guy asks for your hand, give a sureshot “yes”. He sees life in a general scheme and weighs all the options from there, the same way he chooses the right words, the best point of view and perspectives just to incorporate beauty in his writing. Jumping into conclusion is not his game, he probably learned that it is not practical from a thousand fictional dilemma he wrote. And you will not live in monotony and routines, he can put colors in your days the same way he resorts figurative languages, the same way he puts flowers and butterflies in his words. And your leisure times will not be spent on themed parks, signature shops and wherever-transatlantic-cruise that is, spending the money you saved for a year in just one day. He will teach you to appreciate God’s creation and find happiness in the most mundane of things— on the sun rising behind the trees, the music of birds chirping and the dance of leaves in graceful sways, the breeze that kisses your cheek, your face, touching your heart with a magical feel, all the way to your bones, sunsets and silhouettes, the placid sea and the story behind a seagull or a fishing canoe that blemishes the scene. This list can go on forever, and the guy who writes is birthed with utmost appreciation to this, with sheer gratitude and he has an innate understanding that this whole divinity is meant to be shared with someone.

He might get lost in conversations, and becomes remote in an instant, but you are willing to make it up, because you know, at the back of your head that you are already transcending the touches of reality, lost in the not-so-distant world of make believe, living in the beauty and power of imagination, the world behind the written words.

the lover and the beloved

First of all, love is a joint experience between two persons — but the fact that it is a joint experience does not mean that it is a similar experience to the two people involved. There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries. Often the beloved is only a stimulus for all the stored-up love which had lain quiet within the lover for a long time hitherto. And somehow every lover knows this. He feels in his soul that his love is a solitary thing. He comes to know a new, strange loneliness and it is this knowledge which makes him suffer. So there is only one thing for the lover to do. He must house his love within himself as best he can; he must create for himself a whole new inward world — a world intense and strange, complete in himself. Let it be added here that this lover about whom we speak need not necessarily be a young man saving for a wedding ring — this lover can be man, woman, child, or indeed any human creature on this earth. 

Now, the beloved can also be of any description. The most outlandish people can be the stimulus for love. A man may be a doddering great-grandfather and still love only a strange girl he saw in the streets of Cheehaw one afternoon two decades past. The preacher may love a fallen woman. The beloved may be treacherous, greasy-headed, and given to evil habits. Yes, and the lover may see this as clearly as anyone else — but that does not affect the evolution of his love one whit. A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lilies of the swamp. A good man may be the stimulus for a love both violent and debased, or a jabbering madman may bring about in the soul of someone a tender and simple idyll. Therefore, the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself. 

It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain.

Date a Girl Who Reads

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book. Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent.  Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

dreary

Sometimes when I get upset, something inside of me shuts down. I feel like I should be crying or screaming or something but I don't because I'm turned off. I go silent and don't talk very much, just looking at people. Thinking so much that I could drive myself crazy. It's the kind of upset that confuses me and makes me want to curl up and sleep it off. I stay fixed like this until the hurt runs away. Sometimes it feels like it's never going to go.

a letter

Dear guys out there,

Never ever being a jerk to girls. you might ruin her feelings. Not that I care about those girls' feelings, but here's a situation for you. So you like this girl but you don't want to get attached to her too much. You don't really care for her, you just want to be seen with girls whom adore you. You give her attentions, spare some of your times for replying texts or chats, be nice to her, drive her home safely, even remind her to eat or what-so-ever. But deep inside you're just not into her. Yet she starts to like you back and takes everything you do as of you mean it. and then you stay away from her. You're not replying her texts and chats nicely like you used to, you don't drive her home regularly, you don't go watch movies with her anymore, and the worse part, you meet her on the street and see her as if nothing happens. I tell you what. you are shit. You can cure yourself like, in a faster way than girls do. Well, that's okay. we can cure too anyway. But you have changed our perspective on guys. Congratulations, you did a truly magnificent job. The thing is, what if there's this guy who truly loves her from the first time and his timeline comes right after yours? How would you feel if you miss your right train just by an inch? The girl forgets you, I can promise that. But this right guy who wants to be with her, fills her world, just can't get inside because of what you did. we, girls, think that guys are the same. We don't want to get hurt twice, thrice, or any numbers existed out there. We do expect, but we don't want our expectations be ones that destroying us. So, how would you feel if you're this right guy for a particular girl? Unhappy? Hurt? Jealous? You can define your heartbreak but can never get close to our definitions of heartbreak.

So, if you truly have those affections and attentions to that particular girls, please do tell her what you feel. We can't guess much and basically we're tired of waiting. We're not moaning, we just don't understand why there are such guys like you.

Sincerely,

Girls (sluts and bitches are mentioned separately)