Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Women have been lied to – Headgames are just a bullet for your own foot

Yea, you shot yourself in your own foot.

Then you blamed me with your eyes.

Let's rewind some three hours and start from the beginning.

Had we rewinded by 24hours, it would be me, you, and durex. But we are interested in the 3 hours before you blamed me with your eyes.

I was there with my friends, you arrived in the bar, walked past by me with a coy smile.

Welcome, I thought to myself. You did not stop because you want to keep me as your a little secret (except apparently you've been talking). No problem.

You pass by again, I say hello, you smirk and continue walking. I say, fine. Now we know it is a secret. Cool.

Sometime later I am talking with a girl that I am having a nice chat going on with, me getting punched in the arm, me teasing back, all in all bloody good fun. You appear out of nowhere, drink in your hand, stand behind her, start dancing and try to get my attention. You get it for five seconds, I return to my company.

Time passes. Am standing by myself while my friends are at the bar , getting smashed. I see you walking by again, I go up to you, you play coy, make me walk five meters, only to chat for ten seconds, the second after I tease you, you turn around like Marylin Monroe and walk away, giving me your smile and the head turn, with the golden hair waving in the air. I think to myself, that is the third time. Three. The holy trinity. The unholy trinity. Karma's third eye.

Time passes. Am talking to an acquaintance, who happens to be a good looking girl whom I have no romantic interest in, and there you are in the background, again, doing the sexy eyes thing.

Few moments later when I am standing by myself you pass by, without stopping, and me not trying to stop you. I'm not gonna play headgames under the guise of flirting.

Time passes. Now I am talking to a catty blonde and voila. I see you ten centimeters from my face.


Whoever told you that ignoring me when I am not busy, when I would enjoy your company, and then jumping all over me I am busy, will make me want you more, LIED.

Whoever told you that you flirting with other men in the meantime would make me want you more, LIED

What it does, you just shoot yourself in your own foot.

Whoever told you that since you were not affected by me leaving with other girls on at least two instances when you were around, and as far as I know,  even got more attracted to me; that I need to do the same, LIED

I am not a woman. I do not get attracted when I see other men being attracted to you. That is a God given thing. I am not a woman. I do not get attracted when I see you manage to go home with other men. Unlike it is for men, for women it really is no big feat. Would you be praising a man managing to buy alcohol in the alcohol shop, a woman buying a donut in the donut shop, a dog eating the food in the bowl? A monkey smelling his own ass? I thought so.

Whoever told you that men and women respond in the same way to similar stimulus, LIED

Whoever told you that because you responded in some way, I have to respond in the same way, LIED. You may feel I have to. You are free to have feelings.

That you get more interested in me when I have good looking women with me, is of no interest to me. I wanted to talk with you, you ran. You do that three times, only to come back and misbehave by disturbing my chat with another woman, and you are cut loose. Dissed and ignored.

I know I am maybe asking to much from a young woman who is the epicenter of attention, but I also have fuses that blow into ignorance.

One, I have no interest in playing headgames with women, model like looks do not change that,

Two, the more I see you entertained by other men, the more I see your general availability;... that does not make you a diamond, it makes you coal.

I know it is not your fault, your looks, men falling all over you, free dinners, and then the lies of the Cosmopolitan filth, are big part of the cause.

My motto:

Reciprocate, or get put on ice.

Part of the "My way or the highway" chapter in my book.

Can you learn it? Maybe, I will give it one try.

But I am past the point of teaching manners.

Angry? No

Sad? Yes

Sympathy? Yes.

Solution? Demotion. Having sympathy while demoting.
But demoting with no remorse.


Flirting is not a one way street.

It is a pleasuring, fun, exciting tennis match. Two sides playing, two sides entertained. One me. One you. One me. One you, and so on.

And I have no interest in being the stupid tennis ball machine non-stop shooting balls into the sea, which swallows them

If you ask me to be a machine, shooting balls at you, you not returning them; then I will be shooting the balls all over the place, at least some will be returned.

In this context, damn.

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