so i write again, about love and what not - CaTiCaT's CuBbYhOLe c",)- JournalHome.com

If I must say, there are far too many loves, the type of which the heart can barely decipher and distinguish, and yet we are blinded by the emotions our cerebral entities bring. The rush of wildly jjolting inexplicable series of heartburns and brain-freezing blushes delude us from the real truth that we are only reacting to nature's stimulus-response reflexes, hardly immeasurable but absolutely complicated. This pivots us to the fact that for so many eons women or the female species of the humankind are more prone to having these gushes of emotional reactions upon the ignition of a certain stimuli in the form of the male species. The apparitions of the latter seem to elevate blood pressures and heart rate to the point of asphyxia and momentary loss of consciousness. But why does the opposite gender seem to affect us women so much? Unfathomable but very true.

For the many heartaches women have experienced from amongst my friends I can say that men are either abusing their 1:10 ratio or are really too insensitive to the needs of real women. What's good news to us ladies is that the ratio has been chopped down to 1:4 from the latest Google search. So we, too, will have our better chances at being able to choose the right partner.

Though, on another note there are still many things men and women cannot agree upon so I rest my case. Men are from Mars, women from Venus. These two will never meet.

Although in the end we know there are some things better done with someone, not alone. However, there are some things you cannot control - like whoever comes to your life for the purpose of complementing your being or perhaps for you to complement him back but at times it hardly happens. Boy-girl relationships are this complicated. I've known that in my more-than-a-quarter-of-a-century's existence in this world.

We must remember, too, that a kiss is just a kiss, maybe temporary bliss, maybe a figment of our presumptuous imaginations, a mirage and an oasis in the Sahara desert, only made up in the mind as a tingling sensation once the two labias conform to each other and make that magical connection. Perhaps it can still be intercepted, perhaps it can still be conceptualized but in the end was never in reality to behold, at least in my case. So just as the falling star drops from the zenith to the horizon, he just waned away. He was just after all a wish come true for some few moments in my time, like a dream in a dream where in my consciousness he belongs but in my subconsciousness he was merely a desired object to behold; never mine, just a fleeting thing. I bet I am right.