⚠Warning ⚠
Serving sinful thoughts—didn’t even mean to… someone arrest me.
So, these days we’ve been in touch almost non-stop, riding the pulse of my summer days to scribble a little something…
This week, I can’t promise more than one person won’t clutch their pearls—You know a chat with me is spicy, and sitting cross-legged smoking a habano haha
It’s like a black comedy from French cinema in black and white.
A film shot in 1963
With profound dialogues, uncomfortable silences and glances that hide between shoulders, and a title that caused scandal at its premiere “L’Amour en Trois Mensonges”—Love in three lies haha 😝
And while I crack up with these mental black-and-white flicks, I also clock what still reeks of cultural mothballs…
The other day, on a story, a friend posted: “There are whims of love a lady shouldn’t have.” Boom! We’re still shooting 18th century films in the 21st century 🎥😮💨
From a modern lens, that line deserves a hard pause. Why shouldn’t a “lady”—a term already dusty with traditional connotations—have certain whims a man can indulge in? And more:
Who decides what is a “whim” in love?
Uff.. my dear friend crashed in the timeline and got stuck in the future… This same friend defends the idea that a woman shouldn’t aim for a man’s behavior, even if she’s killing it professionally.
Freedom of thought has no gender, folks, Epictetus said it: “he who is free in body but chained in mind is a slave…”—a slave to his own biases and pride.
Here’s one of my poetic philosophies:
“The soul doesn’t seek salvation, the body doesn’t chase pleasure—the brain craves perfection.
Not because it exists, but because it stimulates.
And that stimulation? It’s the closest thing to eternity that human can process.”
Here’s the full tea:
This same friend, over dinner once, I told him “are you scared that a woman in a skirt and heels might judge the world from a man’s perspective?” He hit back with a Marilyn Monroe quote: “A woman who aspires to be like a man lacks ambition”, I smirked and said, “Your answer just proves my point, and I couldn’t agree more – us thinking like men would only give us a ninja mind to face the world, ’cause seduction without mind is just an animal in heat.”
Man, I can still taste of victory in my head — it was like a verbal duel in a Godard flick haha
Sadly, plenty of cultures dress up their morals in concepts. What they call “wisdom” is just fear with a fancy vocabulary, and ‘romanticism’? A slick excuse for sex. But behind the scenes, it’s all a power game.
Let’s dismantle love
Here we go, baking the concept, melting off the sugar layers 😼
Love’s used to “control your emotions”— no difference, it’s manipulation in a purity custom.
I’m not the only one saying it— vibes with plenty of critical theories about power.
Philosophers like Michel Foucault dug into how emotions and desires (yep, love included) get shaped by invisible, subtle power structures that keep us tame—literally, like petting a docile pup on the head… and read my mind to complete that sentence haha
And my friends, I’ve seen it — how plenty of straight guys from different cultures want women as trophies position, others as decoration, with ‘standardized beauty’ just some crap you google haaah! 😼
Damn! So many roles in this love play, film that we call society!
Backstage, we’ve gotta talk emotional dependence— the real deal behind the cliché: “You need someone to feel complete”—nah, overplayed script..
Not just a line, a high with a killer PR that traps you in the endless search for external validation, bc no one taught to look for it inside.
Romantic love—that big social excuse for sex—is pure chemistry. An idea that spikes your dopamine and, honestly, it’s like driving without lights on a foggy road.
Hell! Instinct doesn’t ask for permission, my readers, it doesn’t sit down to negotiate terms. It serves our primal will—it’s perfect for manipulation, bc it taps something older and more gut-level than our reason.
Dear readers, instinct is the key. Yes, we are rational beings. But we’re still tied to a body that’s biologically primitive at its core.
Now, here’s where it gets juicy:
Once you dismantle the traditional ‘love’ concept—see it’s not some universal law or absolute truth—you can choose how to play with it 😼
Instead of swallowing the old narrative— “find the one,” “complete yourself,” “be chosen”— you rebuild it your way—perhaps love isn’t romantic, perhaps it’s casual love, something not tied to another or anything, that Japanese “red thread” cliché… after that, you leave passion bare, naked in front of you, like the curtain dropping on stage, more exquisite than the delight of pleasure is understanding it.
The trick, as a creator, is you define its meaning—not the system, not morality—and you call the shots on the board from here on out 😉
Love’s not an objective reality—it’s the sci-fi of sex. You go from a protagonist shaped by the director’s choices to the screenwriter scripting your own passions.
These concepts sold to us as absolute truths, narratives we’ve swallowed without chewing… man, we love a good story.
Love is dopamine. So’s attachment, even nostalgia—chemical spikes that, from a playful existentialist angle, let us see the absurdity, spot the game, and play it wide awake.
Picture the world as a grand masquerade ball where the first to take drops out. But it’s no ordinary dance—it’s a masked swap where you cling to the music or the partners you trade off with as the melodies play.
I’m not cheesy—I just like messing with minds, crafting scenes that spark possibility. And when you’ve got hope, friends, you’ve got fuel haha.
Last week we were chewing on that quote: *”Love is the most beautiful of accidents”*—literally like saying, “Oh, how cute, I got hit by a truck and now I’m in love! Let’s do it again!” 🤯🤣
My take’s more like… understanding the absurd and rolling with it 😎
“Love” is a bit like laughing while you fall off a cliff—terrifying, but kinda hilarious if you zoom out.
Hahaha… 🤣
And just when you say, “Alright, the French film’s over,” stubbing out your cigarette—almost in slow-mo—you glance back at the stage. Before the smoke clears, you start counting how many lies you swallowed raw.
Haaaah, after this, you won’t gulp down any half-cooked story 😎
Now you read emotional subtitles like a polyglot. 😎
‘Cause yeah:
Sex is the objective reality behind all that romantic sci-fi.
And when you get it,
It’s not ’cause you stopped feeling or wouldn’t play a round out of boredom—it’s ’cause you started speaking seduction with a native accent haha
No more stuttering.
No more pausing.
You’ve got multiple receivers waiting for your next line.
And you know exactly what you’re going to drop 😝
I’ll wrap by laying it bare: the only absolute truth behind this whole sci-fi love flick is sex. You decide if you keep playing the theater.
And here, I’ll give props to my NY friend: hotter than sex is watching the other’s instinct flare up while we’re in abstinence—the sober magician’s trick 😎✨
Bye now! 💋
