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Fahckmylife's Blog
Crap adult, OK human.

‘He’s my very own Christian Grey popsicle’: Romance is Dead.

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I just put up pictures of my face because I have nothing else….. Hopefully I look like I’m disapproving.

We have all to some degree been conditioned to believe in some idea of romance. This is wrong  and creates impossible expectations.  Well, maybe some people (I’m sure) like to do or be the object all the clichéd stuff like flowers, wedding proposals in a public place, sex on a white bed covered in rose petals, singing people songs written specifically for them on a plane and the idea of a ‘prince charming’  sweeping you off your feet yada yada yada.  I think all of those things are gross and wrong and if anyone expects them they are a fool.  If someone does any of these things I think it makes them an even bigger fool with no original ideas as to how to show they care about someone.  This makes me feel so ill that I can’t hide the fact that I feel like this (you can see this from my very obvious and judgemental facial expressions) when people talk about any of these contrived bullshitty things that don’t mean anything in the long run.  The idea of someone giving me flowers or doing something equally as embarrassing makes me literally want to vomit and this isn’t even my main issue with the concept of ‘romance’.  

My main issue is that the concept of ‘romance’ is so far removed from reality (albeit my reality) that books like 50 Shades of Grey are seen as both erotic and romantic.  In fact 50 Shades of Grey can suck my proverbials for its contrived aspirations, creating a monster so shit that it dried me up within a few pages.  With cracking quotes like ‘he’s my very own Christian Grey popsicle’ and “see how you taste,” he breathes against my ear. “Suck me, baby” I think the fact that this book became a best seller is indicative of the fact that’s there’s no such thing as romance anymore (I have massive issues with the use of the word ‘baby’ unless in an ironic way).  It’s all just a cringey prelude to sex with the emotional depth of a teaspoon.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with erotic literature, I’m not saying that, and I’m not saying it needs to be all about riding someone that you’re emotionally connected to, but the superficiality of this novel does nothing for me.  You can write sex in fiction all you want but there needs to be something more to it.  Maybe I prefer the yummy tension literature and film as opposed to the actual sex itself, but if the former element has been done correctly the second (although at times superfluous)  works out better.  For me Pride and Prejudice is probably one of the hottest things that I have ever read (Angela Carter is my kind of proper dirt though) and not a lot of consequence happens in it… or at least by today’s standards.  It’s drawn out and at times painful but that’s what makes it work. 

Anyway the reason I am writing about this is because the other night when I was out a man bit my arm repeatedly.  ‘Was he mad?’ I hear you ask.  I believe, and I could be wrong here, that this was an attempt on the man’s part to win favour with me, and whilst I like biting and all that, I was quite surprised that he took to this course of action whilst I was mid-sentence.  Needless to say this experience left me so perplexed and confused as to what it meant that I thought about it for some time after.  Is that what we do now?  Is that how we pick people up?  That or grind off people on a dancefloor and wake up 5 years later married to someone you don’t really know and maybe just settled for?  Is there any point in trying to get to know people any more or is it all just a prelude to a ride?  Not that I really give a fuck at this point in my life (I don’t NEED to do anything that requires finding the ‘one’ – a stupid concept in itself) but I think our expectations as regards finding partners, or even a friend with benefits, deliberately or otherwise have reached an all- time low.  There’s no tension.  All the barriers have dropped. The idea of someone even trying to win you over is not something that happens now…(or maybe that’s just me!)  It’s boring and it makes me angry.  Even if it’s only for a night where’s the delicious tension that I crave?  Nobody really bothers anymore. It’s all instant gratification and making the best of a badly chosen situation.

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Ideally I think that the situation would be some kind of formation of these vague (which I won’t explain) random things and this doesn’t mean one has to be male or female.  Just someone!

Someone winning someone over. 

Thoughtfulness that indicates some kind of interest.

 Adversity of some sort to the whole thing. 

A realisation. 

Seeing some kind of influence in someone else’s life. 

Sexual tension and awkwardness based on this idea. 

Someone paying attention to details in what you’ve said. 

Some strange kind of cynicism and resistance. 

Maybe one bigish non-cringe worthy gesture (should that be hyphenated?)  – like a thoughtful letter or small handmade gift that is some kind of indication of knowing somebody really well.

Two weirdos accepting that they are both odd and just accepting those idiosyncrasies.

 

Or maybe just maybe this …. Ryan Gosling with a beard chopping wood.  That image alone might sort me out enough.  Everything else is just dead or bland.

 

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2 Responses to “‘He’s my very own Christian Grey popsicle’: Romance is Dead.”

  1. Ryan Gosling with a beard chopping wood is a powerful and almost satisfactory solution….but a simple conversation with a spark of understanding and affection may be just what this whole “romance” thing might be all about. Nothin too fancy. I’d like to think most people know this, but I could be wrong….Hi by the way 🙂

  2. “Two weirdos accepting that they are both odd and just accepting those idiosyncrasies.”

    That’s what love is, for me. I confess, I have used the word ‘baby’ unironically. Then again, I am a big soppy romantic.


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