Tag Archives: romance

The Piano Has Been Drinking Poetics

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Q – What’s my type? A – “Dark bearded men! That write and don’t care what they look like! I’m talking philosophical, Tom Waits the piano has been drinking poetics!”

Whilst discussing all be it a hypothetical break from my usual type of man, I asked one of my best friends just what she thought my type was, as she was so convinced that the man I was describing was far too away from my idea of “perfection”. The above answer is word for word what she answered and it got me thinking that maybe that is where I have been going wrong. Searching for a man that I know, on the basis of their very character, are going to be eratic, egotistical and sombre – three things that I have come to expect from my experiences with these kind of men.But then again isn’t this what I love about them? I like the sporadic way their minds work, the tilt they take the world in through and that humbling sense of confusion that they radiate through their alcohol soaked pours. I revel in the fact that they read books, reall genuine hard to handle books, that expand their creativity and mould their absolutely ludicrous thought patterns. You never know what they are going to say, what subject of conversation is going to come up or who they are going to put on the record player. It feels – liberating.

Then again there is a draw back to these men, something that they all hold in common and something again that I have noticed after being married (and subsequently seperated) from one – that a hell of a lot of musicians hold in common – they lack sincerity. They read those books because it fits their style, they drink whiskey not because they like it but because its what their idols drink, they grow beards not because they have no need to shave it but because it suits the clothes that they seem not to think about wearing, when in actual fact a lot of thought goes into looking like they do not care. They play their instruments and sing their songs not because of a genuine love of the art, a way of expressing their thoughts or perpetuating their experiences, but simply because it is seen as an attractive skill to have.

I have met a lot of good, genuine “bohemian”, “beatnik”, “hippie” whatever you want to call them, people but sadly they are few and far between. It seems that the very people you think are unique, always have a way of turning out to be a dime a dozen, with their eyes set on the stars because in all reality it is simply closer than the moon. I don’t want a star chaser to sing me songs in the small hours of the morning, or croon to me over the empties whilst listening to forgotten jazz that neither of us really enjoy.

I want a moon man. I want a man who wakes up in the morning and knows that there is something beyond the stars, beyond the countless ways you can sell your soul to seek reprise quickly and effortlessly. I do not know what these moon men look like, I do not know if in fact they have beards, or write poetry, or listen to Tom Waits but I know that I am not asking for much. A man, simple in his complexity who believes in peace rather than love. Who is not constricted by Hallmark connotations of romance but not so liberal as to assume that romance does not matter.

It appears to me I need a break from the afore mentioned men that my friend (who knows me far too well for either of our benefit) and I both know are part of the problem rather than the solution. I am in no hurry. I have a perfect partner who knows me better than anyone else in the world and whom I love so much it hurts. Who every moment I spend with feels like peace and who when touches my face helps me find my heaven. They do not call me sweetheart, sugar, darling or baby – she calls me Mummy.

The Disney Delusion

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Men get blamed for a lot of stuff that I don’t think is necessarily their fault, namely what I like to think of as the “Prince Charming Curse”.

All women whether they want to admit it or not have a Prince Charming in their head. Now he may be different to the Disney princes we were raised with as children, but the general logic is the same. It doesn’t matter if the Prince Charming in your head is covered in tattoos or straight off of the factory line, what does matter is that in your head, in every woman’s head, there is this perfectly charming man that was made by some great force, just for them.

To pick apart the PCC we have to look at the different ways in which men and women view each other. It is a commonly held misconception that men do not have their own notions of Princess Charming, because a hell of a lot of them do, but women, especially when they are little girls, are taught to subconsciously develop this notion of “perfection” in terms of who they choose to love and who they choose to leave.

Like I said at the beginning of this post, men get blamed for a lot of stuff that isn’t their fault as a result of the way a lot of women think about members of the opposite sex, whether they are conscious of the fact that they are doing it or not. No man, whoever he may be, has any chance of living up to the Prince Charming label and it isn’t because men suck, or men are evil beings, I quite like men – the point is men aren’t Prince Charming, because women aren’t Cinderella.

There seems to be this idea that all little girls are princesses, even the ones that play in the dirt, but that men have the ability to grow up good or grow up bad. Women do get called some horrendous names like skank, whore, slut – take your pick, my point is that it doesn’t put all men off of them. Some men actually prefer that kind of woman because they know that they don’t have to be a gentleman, or if you will, a Prince Charming. These girls are low maintenance and good for one thing, and if you are a man looking for a fix, there is nothing better than someone giving it away for free. I hold nothing against these women and in a lot of ways I envy them.

I envy people who can have sex with absolutely no strings attached, who look at members of the opposite sex with one thing in mind and only one thing. Who will overlook even the most blatant discrepancies to their Prince/Princess Charming criteria in the face of such unadulterated and uncompromising lust. I envy people who can forget that they are human and switch off their emotions for an hour or two and for those moments, be whoever and whatever the person desires with no prior assumptions of how they are supposed to act.

I think this is why a lot of women hate the whore/skank/slut kind of women; when it comes down to it its jealousy. You see them firstly as a sexual threat, because when someone has no morals your boyfriend, brother or best friend could be on their menu, but you ultimately see them as a personal threat, their mere existence causing you to feel like one of you is doing something wrong. People don’t like to question who they are and I think this is what the age old battle of sexually promiscuous men and sexually promiscuous women comes down to.

Disney is a classic brainwashing tool for young and old alike and it is in Disney movies that I founded most of my abhorrence for the Prince Charming idea. Something I noticed as a child and I still notice now is the amount of men in a Disney movie versus the amount of women. Take Pocahontas for example. You have a ship load of crude, most likely half-drunk men and an entire crop of young untamed, wild spirited women. Why is it then, which even at the end of the movie when the savages and the slave masters are equal, are Pocahontas and John Smith the only two that fell in love? I know the answer, and I think that if we taught our children, both male and female alike the true nature of love and what the world wants you to think it is, we would save them a hell of a lot of heartache.

The truth is simple – you are never going to find your perfect person, no matter how hard you try or however much you think you may have already found them. You will never know a love like John Smith and Pocahontas, because you are not a “princess” little girl and you are not a “prince” little boy. You are most probably a middle class child with a life time of disappointment and compromise ahead of you. The sooner you learn that life is not a fairy tale and that dreams genuinely don’t come true, the sooner life will begin to get better.

It’s not that women keep falling for the wrong guys, it’s that women keep trying to convince themselves that the person they love is perfect for them and instead of realising that all the things they don’t have in common, all the times they irritate each other and argue pointlessly are actually signs that they are not right for each other, they convince themselves that compromise and changing themselves slightly to benefit the other is what relationships are all about.

No. If you have to change who you are to be with the person you think that you are meant to be with, you are not meant to be with them. Eric didn’t make Ariel dye her hair because he preferred blondes and Tiana married Naveen when they were both still frogs. The only Disney movie that teaches children what life is really like is the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Quasi loves Esmeralda and she loves Phoebus. Now she does not love Phoebus because he is any kinder, braver or smarter than Quasi, no, she loves Phoebus because he is better looking.

We are preprogramed to think that the personality we wish for in a mate comes pre-packaged in a box that is also fit to our description, never mind the hundreds and hundreds of perfect matches we skip because they do not fit the Disney brand “Prince Charming” ideology. When people say that they genuinely prefer personality to looks, these people usually being the same that despise those brave enough to admit that looks are important, I wonder what they would do put in Esmeralda’s position? I can almost guarantee that none of those self-righteous people would choose Quasi. The “princess” only ever falls for the “prince”.

So what happens when you realise that you are not a princess? Does that automatically mean that you should accept that fact that Quasi is as good as you are going to get and abandon all hope that Phoebus will ever love you? Seems like a depressing thought when you metaphorically use characters than you know and love instead of pointless celebrities or random acquaintances.

There appear to be two options. Either make yourself more like Esmeralda – change who you are, so that Phoebus will love you. Or accept the fact that Quasi is a person just like you – be who you are and be happy to be loved for who you are, by someone who would have you no other way.

The Disney Delusion has left a trail of broken hearts in its wake ever since Snow White bit the big one way back in 1937. Since then women have been convincing themselves that they are worthy of their Prince Charming and men have been convincing themselves that love is an elusive beast, often being left with feelings of inadequacy at the end of a relationship. The amount of men whose hearts are broken at the end of a relationship because they felt like they simply weren’t good enough is staggering and mostly overlooked.

You never find out Prince Charming’s story in Cinderella. You don’t get to go back to his palace and see how he rolls. He appears out of the pages of dreams and sweeps Cinderella off of her feet. The only way you are ever going to find your Prince Charming, is to never get too close. The moment that you see that a man is a real, living, breathing, feeling entity with emotions and aspirations just like you, who is weak and insecure and has the ability to break just like you women do, that is when the Prince Charming illusion shatters.

My best advice is to remember as the great sage Swift once said – you are not a princess and this is not a fairy tale. Abandon your hopes of every getting Esmeralda, Quasi, girls like her only want the Phoebus’ of this world and girls likewise give up your search for Phoebus, he will only settle for you if he cannot find his Esmeralda.

People will call me cynical, but I would rather be cynical than delusional. Anyway, I haven’t completely given up hope of finding my Prince Charming, but then again I never really liked Phoebus. I’ve always been a Quasi kind of girl.