Goodbye to Karaoke
No more singing at karaokes, now it’s all about swiping for ego.
As you know, if you’re going to read me, cros yourself or pour yourself a shot of whiskey—this isn’t hell, but some thoughts need purging.
We’re literally living the apocalypse for romantics. More than one person is out there selling their soul on apps. Love’s become an algorithm with bad taste and worse matches.
Before, Cupid would “strike you” —now, it’s a server in Sillicon Valley that doesn’t even know if you’re into wine or craft beer 😒
Ok, real talk incoming 💘👻
Now, hearts ghost each other, and feelings are like contracts—or worse, they get hit with the ol’ “aka Cupid” treatment.
Ghosting isn’t a sin anymore—it’s a sacrament.
They baptize you with a ‘seen’ and bury you with a ‘typing…’ that nerver comes—like the old ‘I’ll call you’ move after a bad date —so 80’s haha —rebooted as digital limbo. You end up blaming ppl who tweak their chat privacy settings, bc, yeah, ghosting hits the ego straight-on, but paranoia turns it into a religion.
You know me — always honest
Now the betrayal isn’t from the one who vanishes —it’s from the one who hides their last-seen status. Ouch! Guilt in ppl’s heads isn’t emotional anymore —it’s a WhatsApp settings issue… thanks God it is! haha
Oh yeah folks, full support! This isn’t the liturgy of the ‘seen’, you know, it’s like dying without drama and living in peace ☺
I think, personally, I’ve chosen clean edges, owing no one an epic romance or a sacrificial love story 💛
Gossyp session:
The other day, a friend of mine sent me a 5-minute voice note crying bc her match replied “haha” to a deep meme.
I swear I don’t get ppl —why do they use chats to stay in touch, I mean 24/7? It suffocates me, I barely check my screen, just to update my ig stories… you know, some ppl can follow you without chatting the whole day plssss.
This week was full of drama, there is some guy who DM’d me after two beers, saying ‘You’re my soulmate’ I repplied ‘Uff, I think your therapist or astrologer might appreciate that more —I’ve quit the theater for now 😎
Let’s see! Nowadays, ppl checking your birth chart in the w/c of the bar to see if you’re compatible before deciding whether to head to their apartment 😒
The things you hear on the street… 😮💨
Dear readers, if you preferred a guy belting out a Luis Miguel cover at the bar over these dictionary bios that say:
“No looking for anything serious (for now 😏)”
“Wine lover, dog enthusiast, and deep talks at 3am”
“Into long walks and specialty coffee”
You’re the script expert in this theater called “love.” haha
Meanwhile, the real romantics are listening to Chris Stapleton, staring at the horizon with a cold mate, wondering where the ppl you met in the supermarket line went, spontaneously —back when there weren’t so many questions or behavioral policing over text interpretation ❤
But ok ok, let’s pause here!
Old school doesn’t mean “someone wanting a real connection, an honest convo, and some good music”—clichés…
I don’t get why everyone romanticizes that idea without questioning why it’s supposed to be the gold standard. I mean, nowadays, ageless is a ticket if you can buy it 👽
New gossip:
This week, a friend of mine wrote me saying “Kim, I want someone who wouldn’t nag him for not texting during the day.” He hated ppl breathing down his neck —he just wanted someone with theis own life who’d share an occasional “couple’s Sunday.” Ouch! I almost stood up to clap, but that ending made me throw in the towel 😆
My take:
I’d play the Sunday game, but if someone smiles at me, I’ve got full freedom to chat and flirt, you know, I’ll do the occasional Sunday with anyone, but no rules —I’m a free soul, and if a cute smile comes my way… sorry I’m solar-powered, I feed off that ☼ haha
You probably thinking: Is Kim a romance or an intermittent ASMR experience?
Well, if it’s up for a vote. I wear the label on my gym shirt haha
There is sth that drives me crazy, those friends flooding the chat with “there are no real connections anymore?”… They’re also the ones scrolling like they’ll find true love between filters and clichés..
Religion of fuckboys and players with existential angst?
The other day, I was at a friend’s place and he goes, “Kim, I’m exhausted —I’ve got a Bible’s worth of chicks pining over me…”
My reaction? He’s “exhausted,” like he’s the victim of his own fan club —while scrolling through WhatsApp: Poor guy, trapped in his own sentimental harem. A greek tragedy with WI-FI!
My reply: Poor souls in the graveyard you’ve got in that screen ⚰️📱
I swear, it was a parade of chats like watching a documentary on emotional ghost:
“Here’s Vale —I stopped replying when she wanted to define the relationship… And Dani, ufff super hot but still thinks she’s special, poor thing.” 🙁 lmao… my friend is top in this game haha
Heads-up —this isn’t a boring “love lecture.” Just thinking… some ppl are way too deep in their dramatic rol. Plsss, don’t sell me someone else’s script —tell me your vibe and we’ll see if we sync. Ppl aren’t bluetooth 👾
First off, modern love, or hookups come with terms and conditions, I’d rather stick to the free trial of my rule of 4 — No emotional subscriptions of bonds or an affection checklist club. Drama’s not on my skedge —let’s rain check it!
Stop to be fake as saying “I’m over love” or “I want eternal love week after meeting someone” plsss We can share sth without locking it up. If there’s chemistry, we’ll know without needing to mark it on an emotional agenda.
Dear ones, I’m not cheesy, If vanity’s the devil’s fave sin, and earth’s hell, it makes sense why I’ve got no regrets.
That’s why I prefer everything manual. Old-fashioned isn’t a whim form me— it’s about renewing the language, resetting desire, defying comfort.
I bet Cupid had a heart attack reading this haha
I’ll close with my mantra:
I don’t want guarantees: I want moments that leave me mapless
I don’t want to be cared for: I want to be seen vibrating
I don’t want my rhythm followed: I want them to dance their own chaos—no contracts
I’m not after a ‘forever’—I’m after a “now” that burns my skin.. ‘Cause a fuse without dynamite? Not my thing.
Let Cupid get a Tinder and stop messing around with this rusty arrows.
I’m in airplane mode, flying signal-free… no promises! 🥵✈️
Bye now!😎
