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37 Genuine reasons why we(girls ) love boys

10 Jun
  • The way they always wear their favorite cologne ( which happens to be the one that you bought to

 

them for their birthday )
 

  • The way that they run their hands through out hair

 

  • The way that they look at you and you want to die right there and then

 

  • The way that they casually put their arms around you

 

  • The way that they kiss away your tears

 

  • …and the way that they then get mad at how they can’t make your problems go away

 

  • The way they show off around their friends, even though you both know that you would love them

even if they missed a basket or two
 

  • How their eyes light up at the result of 3 hours of preparing your date

 

  • How they always know just what to say to make you blush

 

  • How they sometimes think that they know just what to say to make you feel better, even if you think

that it is the worst thing they could say
 

  • The way they hold you close when you are cold

 

  • How they look at you when you are mad at them and all your anger melts away

 

  • How they always smile when you are together

 

  • The way that they always let you win any game that you play together

 

  • …and then when you point that out to them, they pretend to not know what you are talking about

 

  • The way that they smile at you

 

  • The way that you feel when they call to apologize after you had a big fight

 

  • The way that they say ” I love you “

 

  • The way that they say ” I love you ” in front of your friends

 

  • The way that they touch and hold you so gently, like they are afraid that they will break you

 

  • The way that they kiss you

 

  • The way that they open their arms to you when you are crying

 

  • The way that they never admit that you hurt them

 

  • The way that they try not to cry when they are afraid that they are losing you

 

  • The way they think that they are your big protector, even though you think that you are theirs

 

  • The way that they say ” I miss you “, even though they hate to admit it

 

  • The way that you miss everything about them when they are gone

 

  • The way that they remember your special moments or anniversaries when you think that they forgot

 

  • The way that they apologize when they do forget

 

  • The way that they comfort you when you have a bad day

 

  • The way that you can’t wait to get home and tell them all about your day

 

  • The way that they write you love letters even if they think that it is not cool

 

  • How they would rather be with you than their friends sometimes

 

  • How you want to hug them even though they are all sweaty

 

  • Yet regardless if you love them, hate them, wish they would die or know that you would die without them

it matters not. Because once in your life, whatever they were to the world they become everything to you.
 

  • When you look them in the eyes, travelling to the depths of their souls and you say a million things without

a trace of sound, you know that your own life is inevitably consumed within the rhythmic beatings of his heart.
 

  • We love them for a million reasons. No paper would do it justice. It is a thing a feeling, that is only felt.

Tere Saath Shaam guzaar loon

9 Jun

abhii is taraf na nigaah kar main Gazal ke palkein sanvaar loon
meraa lafz lafz ho aainaa tujhe aaine mein utaar loon

main tamaam din kaa thakaa huaa tuu tamaam shab kaa jagaa huaa
zaraa Thahar jaa isii mod par tere saath shaam guzaar loon

agar aasamaan kii numaaishon mein mujhe bhii izn-e-qayaam ho
to main motiyon kii dukaan se terii baaliyaan tere haar loon

[izn-e-qaayam=command to stop]

kaii ajanabii terii raah ke mere paas se yoon guzar gaye 
jinhen dekh kar ye tadap huii teraa naam leke pukaar loonImage

A girlfriend or a thing to be carried over?

7 Jun

It’s sickening how relationships are subject social pressures and expectations – every single one. You become something because it’s socially accepted, and risk losing your sense of self and a chunk of your personality when it comes to finding stability amongst a patriarchal society. As a female in this society, it’s difficult for me to be content with what people choose to label me when I become somebody’s “girlfriend”. I am no longer called by my name. I become this item to everyone.

 

I’m not saying one becomes a piece of ass (but in some cases this is disturbingly true as well). I’m talking about the lack of complete respect and acknowledgement you hold as an independent female. It suddenly doesn’t matter what you really have to say. You are perceived as is this carry-on, when you’re CLEARLY more than that. All of a sudden, you become less appreciated than when you were single. Why is that? Is it because, as a single woman, you are “up for grabs”, so they “care” more about what the fuck you have to say? It really is detrimental for an independent female living in this world to be subject to these types of social rules and codes of conduct.

 

Even though you’re the same, unique individual, the moment you “couple up”, you’re not going to get the respect you fully deserve.

 

“Oh, your girlfriend is awesome, man!!” and “Oh, aren’t you so-and-so’s girlfriend??”

YES, I HAVE A FUCKING NAME. AND IF YOU WANT TO COMPLIMENT ME, I HAVE A FUCKING FACE TO SAY IT TO.

 

When you’ve been a couple for years, it is assumed that you are SOCIALLY ATTACHED at the hip bone! When the other is not present, a plethora of questions are raised as to where they are:

 

“Oh, where’s your boyfriend?”

 

“I don’t know. He has a life too. We’re not the same person. We don’t have to be in the same place at the same time,ALL the fucking time.”

 

Or, “How’s your boyfriend?”

 

“Yeah, I’m doing fine; how are you?”

 

There’s a serious problem when someone’s first question on seeing YOU is, “How’s your boyfriend?” or “Where’s your boyfriend”, before even THINKING about your well-being first.

 

It is even more horrific when people start calling me instead of “the boyfriend” to get to him. I once explained my loathing to a female acquaintance. All she had to say was, “It’s bound to happen when you’re a couple! I don’t mind it!”

Of course, what she just told me was, “I don’t have much respect for myself, so I don’t care!”

 

I was in a three year relationship with my best friend, and I decided we had been living too long submerged in the social expectations of coupledom. We had an incredible time together as “a couple” but we realized that we both didn’t want what society had coerced us into becoming. We sacrificed our amazing friendship, passion, and companionship for a sense of stability.

 

You get put into this mold; A casket of your own true identity. Everything becomes, in a sense, prosthetic so it’s more pleasing to the eye. You can no longer appreciate your time alone. You answer questions you really don’t want to. You accept other people’s annoying behavior (and the loss of your identity) because it’s expected if you are a part of a “couple”.

 

I can’t live like that anymore.

Just because I am fat.

7 Jun

I’m a woman and I’m fat.

After you stop gasping in horror, grow the fuck up and deal with it. You don’t buy my food, my clothes, nor do you fill my car with gas so piss on your self-righteous indignation. I pay for my own health care so stop trying to blame me for your rising insurance premiums. I’m tired of hearing your false platitudes about how I should lose weight for my health. Stop ASSuming I don’t eat healthy food and exercise just because I’m fat. While you’re at it, stop ASSuming thin people are always healthy too.

If you don’t like the way I look stop whining; do the adult thing and simply look away. Contrary to what you’ve been told, I don’t have an unspoken obligation to please your eyes. And for your information I bathe at least once a day during the Winter, and twice a day during the Summer so stop curling your nose up. The only thing that stinks around here is your putrid attitude. Screwing your face up like that only makes me look even better because baring your teeth in disgust makes you look like a rabid hairless chihuahua.

No, I don’t hate skinny bitches. All true bitches are worthy of respect. It’s superficial skinny cunts I can’t stand, right along side superficial fat fucks. Just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I have to listen to you whine about your eating disorder to prove I am not prejudiced against thin people. I have my own eating habits to keep in check without being burdened by someone else’s deliberate food fuck ups. I’m fat, not a professional sympathizer for the self-labeled “pretty people” who throw up, starve, snort coke, or do whatever stupid things to stay thin. I’m not anti-thin, I’m anti-enabling people to act stupid without criticism.

Being fat doesn’t mean I have to prove my worth by nurturing everyone; including every professional victim and fuckwit that thinks my precious time should be spent listening to their complaints of the unfairness of the Universe. Just because I’m fat it doesn’t mean I drop everything I’m doing right then and there because you feel entitled to consolation on my big fat boobs. My big fat boobs aren’t nearly big enough to console all the shitheads of the world, so space is exclusively reserved for the people who really do deserve my sympathy.

No, I don’t want to meet any loser friends of your boyfriends who can’t find a date. Just because I’m fat, it doesn’t mean I’m less than a woman and therefore deserve less than a real man. Save your pathetic substandard matchmaking for the whacked out druggie twit across the street. Maybe she’ll have a use for the bitter, broke, and divorced sod you have handy.

While I’m on the subject, just because I’m fat it doesn’t mean I should date old, butt ugly, or used up men because they think fat chicks are easy and can’t get any better. I’m fat, not an alternative fuck to settle for; nor am I a fan of self-debasing sex. Being fat doesn’t mean I’m obligated to entertain rejected men until the woman of their dreams comes along. Being fat also doesn’t mean I’m so desperate for male attention I’ll take it from someone who graduated with my grandfather.

Don’t think calling yourself a chubby chaser will make me feel flattered, or more confident in your attraction to me. If you aren’t attracted to my personality; then you’re just as superficial as the himbos chasing after skinny cunts. If you really do get wood from fat girls, then you won’t need to announce it. I’ll find out one way or another when I see what kind of girls you check out on a habitual basis. Dismissing my bad reaction as petty jealousy just reinforces the fact that you tried to get into my pants by being a lying piece of shit. And no, liking just my personality is not enough to move on to a sexual level. Just because I’m fat it doesn’t mean I don’t deserve real attraction, passion, or lust. I don’t want someone to claim me now because they think I’ll lose weight later and live up to their typical expectations.

Many people are offended at the notion that I, a fat woman, won’t settle for less than an attractive, financially-able partner. However, I am offended that people think it’s acceptable that fat men get attractive women while I’m expected to settle for ground beef when prime rib is available. I’m VERY offended that people think I should have to lose weight in order to deserve an attractive mate, good sex, and a happy emotionally healthy life. I’m also VERY offended that people think fat women should feel grateful that any man would give them the time of day, therefore asking for more is inherently wrong. Do you know what would make me grateful? If all those people would fall of the face of the fucking planet.

The man with no spine-A parable for Nice Guys”

7 Jun

There once was a man without a spine.

He was a very likable guy. The advantage of not having a spine was that he could fit himself to anyone, and he frequently did. He could flex this way and that.

But he couldn’t stand up …

…and being kinda mushy and flat most of the time, people often walked on him without realizing he was there.

So he got sad, having this dreadful absence of a spine, and he was resentful too. He wondered why other people couldn’t fit themselves to him the way he fit himself to others, but that was silly because he never felt he had the right to ask anyone directly to fit themselves to him. He was formless, what was there to fit to anyway? In cyberspace he talked tough as if he had a spine, but people could clearly see by his rage and resentment that he didn’t have one in real life, and he perished in the flame wars he provoked and only came out feeling more ashamed and ineffectual.

He wished he could be with a woman, to help him the way a spine would. If he clung to a woman with a spine, he could stand up, but women didn’t like it when he did that. He often called them “bitches” for the women with spines coldly asked him to let go of them, or unceremoniously shrugged him and his issues off onto the ground telling him to get his own spine.

If he fancied a spineless woman, on the other hand, he couldn’t get her interest because they were looking for men with spines that they could cling to. But the spineless women would hang around with him for sympathy, and he’d be their platonic male friend and play “therapist” though he was as sick as they were. He’d often call himself a “feminist” and lecture these spineless women how to stand on their own when he had no idea of how to stand for himself.

With all the bending and flopping around he did, a spine never could get a chance to grow.

Then one day he had a brainstorm, he decided he’d make himself a spine.

He took a long stick…. and he put it far up his ass.

It was an improvement, though uncomfortable. It was the first time in his life he could walk tall, if not a bit stiff. He found he could have opinions at odds with others, and stand for them. He found out that he didn’t have to be liked, that the world didn’t end if he pissed someone off. He didn’t want to fit easily with other people anymore, in fact he became inflexible.

People commented on the change, some people didn’t particularly like him with the stick up his ass but they did notice him more. Some people felt that at least they could respect him, even if they didn’t always like him because he did less whining. At least nobody stepped on him by accident.

However relationships still didn’t come easy, it was hard for a woman with a spine to love him with the stick up his ass. He was stiff, cold, brutally opinionated, condescending, and self-righteously hostile. But eventually he did attract a very pretty woman without a spine who saw him as a tower of strength to cling to.

At first he loved this woman, he thought the stick up his ass was the answer to his dating problems. He was finally being loved the way he once loved others. At first it was great, and then it was good, and then it was ok, and then it was uncomfortable, and by the end of a year it was infuriatingly suffocating. The spineless woman clung like a straightjacket. The horror!!! The horror!!!

But the stick up his ass made him so inflexible he didn’t know how to get the spineless woman off of him, If only he could bend. He was trapped, upright in his “obligations”, “duty to her”, “guilt”, “pride in his commitment”, he spent months with his arms helplessly flapping about trying to get her off of him and trying not to look like he was doing that.

He was hoping that she would leave by hinting her indirectly, he used sarcasic tones, said mean things that were “just a joke”, neglect, “constructive” criticism intended to insult. He only made the spineless woman feel more insecure, so she clung HARDER.

Spineless men envied him, called him a jerk for the way he was treating her, just the way he remembered how he used to envy other men before he had the stick up his ass (when he’d play consoler to their teary-eyed spineless girlfreinds). If only they knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of a spineless person’s embrace they’d understand. He wished she’d leave him for one of the spineless men who envied him. He felt ashamed for the way he must have made women feel in the past when he was trying to cling to them, he knew that they weren’t so evil after all.

One day he decided that there was only one way to be free of the spineless woman once and for all, the stick up his ass had to go.

So he pulled the stick out, and to his amazement a miracle happened: he was still standing! All of the years of inflexibility allowed him the chance to grow a spine. At first he was still a bit stiff but eventually he had the flexibility to contort a bit and yet maintained the firmness to struggle, push, and wriggle from the spineless woman’s grasp (though she protested much). He stayed far out of her reach and the reach of other spineless women so that he could never be grasped by one again.

He was overjoyed with his new-found freedom; he could bend sometimes like he used to (but not too far) and also he could stand tall. He went out, partied, enjoyed life to the fullest, and eventually found a woman with a normal spine like his.

They stood together as separate individuals giving mutual support and enjoying time alone too, and lived (relatively) “happily ever after”…