Pandas, I am officially back. Well, to be honest I came back late last Thursday night but I was not mentally prepared to start my brain until today. Yes, it took me a week. I have been a walking blob ever since I arrived in London. For those of you who don’t know where I went, it was to Cyprus, which is in the Mediterranean. My parents and other family members (from my dad’s side) live there. This was the first time in years that I decided to spend Christmas over there. To be completely honest, I have not been a fan of that country for a while now. And that was mainly because it held a very important reminder for me every time I stepped my pudgy foot back on its soil. A painful reminder of unrequited love. Or more to the point, a fake love that left me barren of any kind of emotions whatsoever. He stole them from me. Like a thief of an elaborate and unexplainable heist. Broken and tarnished, I left my country. I left because my greatest drive was to move back to London. If I didn’t have that ambition then I know I definitely would not have been here right now talking to you guys.
The sadness of this rings ever so true. At least for me. When I first read this I couldn’t help but be drawn to the words. And then my past caught up with me and engulfed my soul. Memories of brokenness broke out of me. Sorrow of a weaker self. A diminishing of a character that once used to flourish. After reading this quote, I realised that my past of a torturous, abusive love, was indeed a war. And upon my return, was faced with changes in a person that I did not recognise.
I have been saying this for years! Turns out, Marilyn Monroe has been saying it since way before I was even born.
Women don’t want much out of a partner. I’m talking about normal, down to earth, beyond the surface type of women. The high maintenance ones need not apply. Ya’ll got too many superfluous needs that I ain’t got time for.
Where oh where did men get this idea that us women want the length of a football field and the width of the General Sherman? Not quite sure what a General Sherman is? Well, here you go…
Or even an Adansonia Grandidieri, which looks more like an ugly penis than the General Sherman does….
Either way, my point still stands that men have this notion that we want a tree trunk inside of us. I can’t imagine anything more visually horrifying and physically painful than the idea of shoving a tree trunk up my va-jay-jay. Just the thought makes me cringe. We are looking for a decent size like Goldilock’s mission to find something that was ‘just right’. Men, it is important to understand that it is most definitely not the quantity but the quality that makes us swoon. We want to be wooed, stimulated and be thought of first. We do not want to do all the work while you get satisfied and us to lay there afterwards, watching you sleep while thinking of ways to get you out the door or more like punching you in the junk ” accidentally”.