It´s starting to worry me beyond all the jokes I usually throw when hard times arrive: romantic, poetic, loving souls seem to be disappearing from the face of the earth (along with mental sanity, old ways of living and heterossexual men with a job who aren´t total assholes).
This lack of romanticism is everywhere: in the men I meet, in Oriental Dance (too many ambitious commercial dealers and not enough artists who are passionate about their craft), even in the book publishing business (a new world for me; a new jungle for me to grub).
No one seems to believe in “once upon a time (…) they lived happily ever after” or, at least, in the power of delicate manners. I´m not one of those corny Nicholas Sparks chicks (errr…well…I may well be, some times…); I have a somewhat balanced sense of practical reality management and I know being a romantic in the world we´re living now is very close to believing in Santa Claus. But…haven´t we been here before? The world has never been a piece of cake, has it? If we believe in the History our ancestors have been recording for centuries, we can easily deduce this world was never prone to romanticism, flowers and hugs at breakfast, impulsive and heroic knight on a white horse gestures, I´ll love you till I die for dinner with a side of mashed potatoes.
From men who try to jump into my pants like famished dogs (no, those are not only in Egypt – it seems they´re everywhere) instead of relating to me as a human being to the Oriental Dance business which is gradually losing its soul for the sake of The Plague (COMPETITION), I crave poetry: a delicate manner of handling somebody´s heart on your heands: some looking at the stars without trying to catch them: some humanity.
The fact that I can clearly hear men´s thoughts while they´re “talking” to me doesn´t help. At all 😦