Drive C: soul.

I like that its cold in this room.

The light clicking of the keys implies words being created.

This desk is gray, the screen white.

It’s all primary.

Innate.

The computers are much like the human body.

Silent, somber, and sedated on the outside.

On the inside, vibrant, violent, and voracious.

Much like the soul, these computers contain portals to the outside world.

A simple login and you’re there.

Surrounded vastly by the floating matter of social networking and musical emphansa.

A leg shakes, and the mind breaks.

You’re the anatomical projection of your digital self.

Dear IT Manager, just as you fiddle with the insides of these computers, I need you to pull some strings in my soul and make the tick sound just right.

The clock hits 11 and its time to shut down.

Unplug from the electric and plug into the humane.

Your processor should adjust just fine.

human

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parted.

She whispered as she stared him in the eyes and said with discontent, “I don’t know if this is loneliness or my heart ripping out of my chest”, he laughed and said “You’d need a heart to begin with” as he handed her a drink and sighed with content.

He watched the light fall onto her shoulders with a soft glow and attempted to remember the last time he felt her scent close to him.

She felt his eyes on her and swayed the back of her neck gently looking at him through the corner of her eyes.
She was quite the sly little fox when it came to drawing him in.

“Look at her, talking to that imbecile. She thinks she’ll find another man like me. It’s actually quite amusing.” he mumbled under his breath as he approached the bar with disgust. “I need another martini, and keep them coming.”

She saw him head towards the bar and knew instantly what his plans for the night had become. He always found the curves of a bottle more enticing than the curves of her own body. She knew this scenario all too well. He would stumble vigorously toward her and murmur some irrefutable catch phrase that she’d hear for the thousandth time and then beg her to come home with him.

Tonight would be different.
She would be the one to stumble.
Right into the arms of another man.

It would ease his mind if he hated her.
It would ease his heart if she became imperfect.
And it would ease his body if she became nothing more than a memory.

“I have a studio apartment, we can have some wine over there if you’d like.”
The man plead his case, just as they all did.
The two walked past the bar as they left, and for the last time her eyes met his.

He watched the sparkles of her dress sway past him, the shadow of her spine running down her back.
He remembered her every sound, word, and touch.
Just as the alcohol in his drink had disappeared, so had she.

“One more martini for this gentleman please.”
He attempted to say something as she ordered another drink for him but she raised a finger to his lips and whispered into his right ear,
“Hush now, don’t explain.”

He stood there infuriated, but frozen.
She puckered her lips and stepped away softly, yet gallantly.
Just as the glass in front of him, she left him alone and empty.

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The Proverbial Asshole – Part 1

The Proverbial Asshole

Rare are the girls who like the “nice guys”.

I am a part of the many who enjoy the other spectrum.
To us, the bad boys are more appealing than the rest.

Why is this?

Many men and women have pondered this question and tried to find the origin of this so-called attraction to the deleterious.
I would like to finally bring some clarity to myself and strip this attraction to its core. No pun intended, of course.

First, I will begin with a misconception that men often make between being the attractive bad boy, and being the arrogant asshole.

Challenging Vs. Insulting


Most of my friends know that my taste in men isn’t exactly “bring home to mom” material. But recently, I stepped out of my typical choice and began dating a good guy. Romantic, sweet, and a bit shy. As our first few dates progressed, my friends began to feed him advice. Advice of which included; “Be an asshole, dude! She likes guys who are assholes.”

Oh sweet lord.
When he told me this weeks later I felt my blood pressure rise 10 units.
I decided I had to clarify that there is a difference between being an arrogant asshole and challenging my intellect. There’s a fine line, and I find that men have trouble with this most, because they don’t know what can be stimulating and what becomes just plain rude.

Typically, women who are into these types of men have strong personalities, and therefore need a man with an equally strong personality. This helps to balance things out, because if a woman is for example into intellectual conversations and the man she is with has a more neutral personality, the conversations will not be as challenging as they would be with a man that has a strong character and conviction. This tends to cause problems, because although the two may be attracted on a physical level, the mental attraction is lacking.

Typically when a man tries to be the proverbial asshole, he begins by using insults. This is where a man makes his first mistake and goes from provocative interest, to arrogant prick. He needs to be able to find the balance. He mustn’t insult a girl, but provoke her on an intellectual level.

Yes, males. There is a difference.

If he can master that talent, the women will run to him as bees to honey.

Why?

Because most women don’t even know what they want from a man, so if a man can find the balance between all the different things she wants, he is obviously capable of mastering her desires more than even she is. This, to women, is impressive and makes them instantly attracted.

Nonetheless, he must know exactly when to be the challenging wit filled boyfriend, and when to be the romantic prince every girl dreams of.

Its a perfect balance.

And typically when men lean too much towards one spectrum, the relationship either becomes boring, or too overbearing.

Because yes, women are versatile and confused creatures when it comes to what they want.

One day they want a man to challenge them, and the next they want one to worship them.

So in attempting to uncover the origins of this attraction, we must first allow men to understand the difference between being insulting and being challenging.

We do not need a man to be an asshole and tell us we’re fat.

We need a man to challenge us intellectually and allow us to be the strong-witted creatures we truly are.

That’s all.

In Part 2 I will discuss whether or not this attraction can be influenced by the numerous media images of the proverbial asshole that women are exposed to throughout their lives, and decipher if perhaps this can be a contributing factor to a woman’s innate desire to be with the “bad boy” instead of the sweet guy.

To be continued.

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crumble in awe.

Another night spent allowing the sound of the rain drops to infect my brain.

They fill me with desire.

The need to be somewhere else.

To live life to the edge of the cliffs and back.

The exhibition of something greater than four walls and a couch.

I want to feel the suffocation of true nature.

To feel my heart crumble in awe.

Starting with the beauty of fall leaves descending onto Earth and ending with the ember shine of  night skies.

You’ve got your hands tied and your schedules set, but as the world spins,
I despair.

Postcards, no longer suffice.

Imagination screams for a taste of reality.

Lets touch the candle’s flame and hold in our hands the burning coals.

Delicate skin needs awakening.

The tree of life breathes at your feet, and you must grasp its buried roots.

Feel the smell of the forest.

Follow the unknown path.

Disconnect the conventional and scream at the top of your lungs:

I am free goddammit!

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