Dear Soulmate,
Loving is the best thing I could ever do to myself. I just can't find any words on the planet to express the love I have for you but there is one thing I know...I'm in love with you. The love I have for you makes me forget that I'm the of challenges of life. Whenever I wake up in the morning, I just look for your photo. I can feel and hear it saying, "good morning, it's a new day." Full of good hope and a fair atmosphere,My love for you is enormous. I'm in love with you. and whoever gave you the name sweetness had a feeling that one day you will grow up and transform my sour life to be sweet as it is today. Sweet like fresh honey that honeybees have produced, just for me.Whenever I eat it, my face is full of smiles and my heart rejoices. The essence of love is on your lips. Spring in the air and flowers bloom .Love so sincere, so luscious fondles and corrupts my soul's affection such an extravagant, bold, devoted, delectable love takes over the galaxy.It's the sparkle of your eyes, or the softness of your hair. It's that something that can't hold me from a stare. My love for you ever longs, only you will do. It's something in you that no one else has but you. Oh, how I?d like to hold your hand. Walk - Run away - Run home again hand in hand in wonderland - in a dream and not letting go of your hand.Only for you have I: Two eyes to see you. Two lips to kiss you.Two hands to touch you. Two arms to hold you.Two feet to walk with you.Two legs to stand beside you and one heart to always love you!
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Monday, January 27, 2014
LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE..YOU ARE MY SUNSET
Dear Soulmate
I lay here next to you, and think of all the times we've had. My head is flooded full of memories of the good times and the bad. I smile and put my arms around you and hold you close to me. I close my eyes and wonder what you're dreaming, wonder what you see. I kiss you softly on the cheek and watch you softly sleep in bliss then I lay my head on your chest and think how much i love simply this.I never before saw such a sunset as the one withheld in your eyes. And, as I gaze into this sunset,a peace and comfort within me arise. This sunset is like no other.It is special, from the viewpoint I see. This happens, once a lifetime, I will never see another for, this view of the sunset means a lot to me. I want to be locked into this sunset and never part from the one I love.And, as I'm lost forever in this special sunset. I'm reminded that you are the only one I love. There's nothing quite as beautiful as you. Nothing like your face, like the warmth of your embrace. A kind and gentle soul whose love runs deep and true there's nothing quite as beautiful...as beautiful as you.Seen the hand of nature paint the landscape green. Seen the breath of winter coat the rivers and the streams. Seen life beneath a sea of china blue but there's nothing on this planet quite as beautiful as you. Your being fills my senses and makes my spirit start to climb.When I'm with you my soul can rest. I want to be with you forever more. On this special day.I make a solemn vow. To love you endlessly in the best way I know how. To love you through the days.To love you through the nights. To love you through the wrongs.To love you through the rights.To hold your hand through all,...your laughs, your thoughts, your fears.To have you close to me,
I lay here next to you, and think of all the times we've had. My head is flooded full of memories of the good times and the bad. I smile and put my arms around you and hold you close to me. I close my eyes and wonder what you're dreaming, wonder what you see. I kiss you softly on the cheek and watch you softly sleep in bliss then I lay my head on your chest and think how much i love simply this.I never before saw such a sunset as the one withheld in your eyes. And, as I gaze into this sunset,a peace and comfort within me arise. This sunset is like no other.It is special, from the viewpoint I see. This happens, once a lifetime, I will never see another for, this view of the sunset means a lot to me. I want to be locked into this sunset and never part from the one I love.And, as I'm lost forever in this special sunset. I'm reminded that you are the only one I love. There's nothing quite as beautiful as you. Nothing like your face, like the warmth of your embrace. A kind and gentle soul whose love runs deep and true there's nothing quite as beautiful...as beautiful as you.Seen the hand of nature paint the landscape green. Seen the breath of winter coat the rivers and the streams. Seen life beneath a sea of china blue but there's nothing on this planet quite as beautiful as you. Your being fills my senses and makes my spirit start to climb.When I'm with you my soul can rest. I want to be with you forever more. On this special day.I make a solemn vow. To love you endlessly in the best way I know how. To love you through the days.To love you through the nights. To love you through the wrongs.To love you through the rights.To hold your hand through all,...your laughs, your thoughts, your fears.To have you close to me,
LOVE/ DATING/THOUGHTS/MOVIES: A BRONX TALE..THE DOOR TEST VS SALIVA TEST
I remember watching a movie called "A Bronx Tale," it's 1993 movie about a kid growing up in the rough-and-tumble 1960s Bronx, What I remember the most from that movie is the "door test."
The "door test," explains gangster Sonny (Chazz Palminteri) to the kid as he prepares to go on a first date, is how you determine whether a girl is a keeper. After opening the car door for your date to climb into the passenger seat, Sonny tells the kid, walk around behind the car and peer through the rear windshield to see if she leans over to unlock the driver's side door for you.
"If she doesn't reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in, that means she's a selfish broad, and all you're seeing is the tip of the iceberg," Sonny says in the movie. "You dump her and you dump her fast."
I took the "door test" to heart. The simplicity of the "door test," in which a single gesture separates the good eggs from the bad.Power locks, had rendered the "door test" irrelevant.What's a modern-day dater to do?
I went on a search of the contemporary equivalent of the "door test," To me little things that matter most. Manner is always up there..so is kindness to others or concern for less fortunate. If they see an old or handicapped person struggling or something, and they go out of their way to help them out, that would be something that catches my eye. But to me the equivalent to the door test is sharing meals.I like to call it the "saliva test. Once you get over that someone's saliva isn't gross, it becomes more of a 'we' than a 'me,'
The "door test," explains gangster Sonny (Chazz Palminteri) to the kid as he prepares to go on a first date, is how you determine whether a girl is a keeper. After opening the car door for your date to climb into the passenger seat, Sonny tells the kid, walk around behind the car and peer through the rear windshield to see if she leans over to unlock the driver's side door for you.
"If she doesn't reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in, that means she's a selfish broad, and all you're seeing is the tip of the iceberg," Sonny says in the movie. "You dump her and you dump her fast."
I took the "door test" to heart. The simplicity of the "door test," in which a single gesture separates the good eggs from the bad.Power locks, had rendered the "door test" irrelevant.What's a modern-day dater to do?
I went on a search of the contemporary equivalent of the "door test," To me little things that matter most. Manner is always up there..so is kindness to others or concern for less fortunate. If they see an old or handicapped person struggling or something, and they go out of their way to help them out, that would be something that catches my eye. But to me the equivalent to the door test is sharing meals.I like to call it the "saliva test. Once you get over that someone's saliva isn't gross, it becomes more of a 'we' than a 'me,'
Thursday, January 23, 2014
DATING/LOVE: WHAT'S IMPORTANT TO A MAN
Men are driven to compete, face challenges, succeed, and conquer. When a man does something nice or meaningful (such as opening a door, offering to help her with something heavy, or expressing a compliment) and a woman looks him in the eyes, smiles, tilts her head, or uses a soft, fluctuating, and feminine tone in response, she makes him feel like a success and encourages him to sacrifice again. All of these responses are flirting behaviors, but he doesn’t notice this. He just notices that she made the time to make him feel important and appreciated. (Men need to be needed. Men like to be appreciated.)
Women will often say that they express appreciation, but without expressing more emotion and femininity in her response, her appreciation often feels less meaningful. (Men like femininity.) Her tone of voice, soft touch, gentle smile, and encouraging words are part of what men associate with femininity. Granted her shape, physical appearance, and posture add to her femininity, but the combination of her appearance and gentle behaviors is part of what makes her not only look feminine and approachable but also confident and happy. (Men like women who like themselves. Men pursue women who appear to be approachable and available.)
Men need to be needed. A man needs to feel that you trust and respect him enough to depend and rely on him. (Men pursue relationships that make them feel trusted and respected.) But trusting and relying on a man is one of the biggest struggles a woman may have. Women are often taught by society and life to be independent and self-reliant. Additionally, women usually feel great impatience when waiting for a man to do something. It can be easier to just jump in and do it rather than feeling vulnerable and anxious, but it is her willingness to lovingly express her faith and confidence in him that will ultimately ensure his ongoing sacrifice, commitment, investment, and love. (Men love through sacrifice—theirs, not women's.)
Communicating faith and trust in a man is one of the most endearing feminine qualities a woman can express, and it starts at first contact by letting him make small sacrifices such as opening a door, offering to help with something, or expressing a compliment and she accepts each offer warmly and with enthusiasm (which reinforces his desire to spend even more time with her).
Women will often say that they express appreciation, but without expressing more emotion and femininity in her response, her appreciation often feels less meaningful. (Men like femininity.) Her tone of voice, soft touch, gentle smile, and encouraging words are part of what men associate with femininity. Granted her shape, physical appearance, and posture add to her femininity, but the combination of her appearance and gentle behaviors is part of what makes her not only look feminine and approachable but also confident and happy. (Men like women who like themselves. Men pursue women who appear to be approachable and available.)
Men need to be needed. A man needs to feel that you trust and respect him enough to depend and rely on him. (Men pursue relationships that make them feel trusted and respected.) But trusting and relying on a man is one of the biggest struggles a woman may have. Women are often taught by society and life to be independent and self-reliant. Additionally, women usually feel great impatience when waiting for a man to do something. It can be easier to just jump in and do it rather than feeling vulnerable and anxious, but it is her willingness to lovingly express her faith and confidence in him that will ultimately ensure his ongoing sacrifice, commitment, investment, and love. (Men love through sacrifice—theirs, not women's.)
Communicating faith and trust in a man is one of the most endearing feminine qualities a woman can express, and it starts at first contact by letting him make small sacrifices such as opening a door, offering to help with something, or expressing a compliment and she accepts each offer warmly and with enthusiasm (which reinforces his desire to spend even more time with her).
ARTICLE: The GOP’s 1 percent doctrine: Help the rich, and only the rich Corporate tax breaks? No problem. Raise the minimum wage? No dice. David Morris
The GOP’s 1 percent doctrine: Help the rich, and only the rich
Corporate tax breaks? No problem. Raise the minimum wage? No dice.
David Morris
Are Republicans inconsistent when they sometimes support using offsets and indexing and sometimes don’t? Not at all. They’re actually very consistent. When capital comes asking for gifts Republicans act like Santa Claus. When labor is the supplicant they conduct themselves more like Scrooge.
Consider the Republicans’ different approach to the estate tax, the minimum wage and jobless benefits.
When George Bush came to office the federal government taxed the value of estates over $675,000. Congress immediately raised the exemption to $1 million and in 2009 to $3.5 million. In 2010 Congress boosted it again to $5 million and in 2012 indexed the exemption to inflation. This year an individual will pay taxes only for the value of an estate over $5.25 million. A couple will receive an exemption of $10.5 million.
In sum, over 13 years Congress increased the estate tax exemption almost 800 percent and then indexed it to inflation. During that time the cost of living rose by 32 percent.
From 1997 to 2007 Congress refused to raise the minimum wage a penny. Then in 2007 it reluctantly raised it by $2.10 over three years. Since 2009 Congress has again refused to revisit the issue. Today and for the foreseeable future any proposal to index the federal minimum wage is dead on arrival.
In sum, over 16 years full time workers earning the federal minimum wage have seen their income rise by 40 percent, to $15,000. During that time the cost of living rose by 45 percent.
Ten states do automatically increase the minimum wage to keep pace with inflation. But last year Congress all but erased the impact of those increases when it refused to extend the two percent payroll tax reduction. The increased dollars subtracted from workers paychecks almost completely offset the dollars added to paychecks from the indexing of the minimum.
Congress takes the same mean spirited and miserly approach to the long term unemployed. In 2009, as part of its stimulus package, Congress extended jobless benefits to as much as 99 weeks. In 2012 it slashed the maximum to 73 weeks and for all but a dozen of the highest unemployment states, to 63 weeks. This was done even though unemployment remained at the highest levels in a generation and about 43 percent of the nearly 13 million unemployed were out of work for more than six months, double the rate of any other economic downturn since the Great Depression.
The average unemployment benefit is $300 per week.
In 2014 Republicans insist they won’t support an extension of jobless benefits without comparable reductions in spending. GOP leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) insists, “There is no excuse to pass unemployment insurance legislation — without also trying to find the money to pay for it so we’re not adding to a completely unsustainable debt.”
Republicans do not apply the offset principle to deficits created by reducing taxes. “You do need to offset the cost of increased spending and that’s what Republicans object to”, asserts Senator Minority Whip Jon Kyl (R-AR). “But you should never have to offset cost of a deliberate decision to reduce tax rates on Americans.”
At the end of 2012 corporate tax breaks that cost the Treasury upwards of $50 billion a year expired. Congress is expected, as it has done many times in the past, to extend the tax breaks and to do so retroactively. No one is talking about the need for offsets.
But even here Republicans demonstrate their consistency. At the end of 2011 the payroll tax reduction expired. Republicans flatly refused to extend it through 2012 without offsetting the loss of revenue. After a protracted battle they reluctantly abandoned their principled effort. As Brian Beutler wrote in TPM the “development represents a dramatic reversal for GOP leaders, who nearly allowed the payroll tax cut to lapse in December in part because of their insistence that the package be financially offset.”
No principle is involved here unless the eagerness to engage in class warfare is a principle. Support for the working class must be offset because it increases the deficit but tax cuts for billionaires, which increase the deficit just as much if not more, do not. The minimum wage should be raised at most every decade and god forbid it should rise automatically with inflation but the estate tax exemption should be raised every year and indexed.
Corporate tax breaks? No problem. Raise the minimum wage? No dice.
David Morris
Are Republicans inconsistent when they sometimes support using offsets and indexing and sometimes don’t? Not at all. They’re actually very consistent. When capital comes asking for gifts Republicans act like Santa Claus. When labor is the supplicant they conduct themselves more like Scrooge.
Consider the Republicans’ different approach to the estate tax, the minimum wage and jobless benefits.
When George Bush came to office the federal government taxed the value of estates over $675,000. Congress immediately raised the exemption to $1 million and in 2009 to $3.5 million. In 2010 Congress boosted it again to $5 million and in 2012 indexed the exemption to inflation. This year an individual will pay taxes only for the value of an estate over $5.25 million. A couple will receive an exemption of $10.5 million.
In sum, over 13 years Congress increased the estate tax exemption almost 800 percent and then indexed it to inflation. During that time the cost of living rose by 32 percent.
From 1997 to 2007 Congress refused to raise the minimum wage a penny. Then in 2007 it reluctantly raised it by $2.10 over three years. Since 2009 Congress has again refused to revisit the issue. Today and for the foreseeable future any proposal to index the federal minimum wage is dead on arrival.
In sum, over 16 years full time workers earning the federal minimum wage have seen their income rise by 40 percent, to $15,000. During that time the cost of living rose by 45 percent.
Ten states do automatically increase the minimum wage to keep pace with inflation. But last year Congress all but erased the impact of those increases when it refused to extend the two percent payroll tax reduction. The increased dollars subtracted from workers paychecks almost completely offset the dollars added to paychecks from the indexing of the minimum.
Congress takes the same mean spirited and miserly approach to the long term unemployed. In 2009, as part of its stimulus package, Congress extended jobless benefits to as much as 99 weeks. In 2012 it slashed the maximum to 73 weeks and for all but a dozen of the highest unemployment states, to 63 weeks. This was done even though unemployment remained at the highest levels in a generation and about 43 percent of the nearly 13 million unemployed were out of work for more than six months, double the rate of any other economic downturn since the Great Depression.
The average unemployment benefit is $300 per week.
In 2014 Republicans insist they won’t support an extension of jobless benefits without comparable reductions in spending. GOP leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) insists, “There is no excuse to pass unemployment insurance legislation — without also trying to find the money to pay for it so we’re not adding to a completely unsustainable debt.”
Republicans do not apply the offset principle to deficits created by reducing taxes. “You do need to offset the cost of increased spending and that’s what Republicans object to”, asserts Senator Minority Whip Jon Kyl (R-AR). “But you should never have to offset cost of a deliberate decision to reduce tax rates on Americans.”
At the end of 2012 corporate tax breaks that cost the Treasury upwards of $50 billion a year expired. Congress is expected, as it has done many times in the past, to extend the tax breaks and to do so retroactively. No one is talking about the need for offsets.
But even here Republicans demonstrate their consistency. At the end of 2011 the payroll tax reduction expired. Republicans flatly refused to extend it through 2012 without offsetting the loss of revenue. After a protracted battle they reluctantly abandoned their principled effort. As Brian Beutler wrote in TPM the “development represents a dramatic reversal for GOP leaders, who nearly allowed the payroll tax cut to lapse in December in part because of their insistence that the package be financially offset.”
No principle is involved here unless the eagerness to engage in class warfare is a principle. Support for the working class must be offset because it increases the deficit but tax cuts for billionaires, which increase the deficit just as much if not more, do not. The minimum wage should be raised at most every decade and god forbid it should rise automatically with inflation but the estate tax exemption should be raised every year and indexed.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE..YOU COMPLETE ME
Dear Soulmate,
Being next to you is where I love to be. It takes away my worries and sets my heart free. When I hold you in my arms nothing can compare. I look into your eyes and I cannot help but stare and, stare I do, at your beautiful face. It makes my heart beat at a truly amazing pace.When I touch your face I begin to shine, It's then that I realize you are mine. It's in your arms I feel no fear. It's in your arms my thoughts are clear. Clear, that in my arms I hold a treasure, a gift from God that I cannot measure. When you go outside and look up at the sky. I want you to count every star and always remember every star you count is an I Love You. I want you to feel my love everywhere you go and I want you to know that I will always have you in my heart. The day we meet again,I want you to hug me, hug me very tight, and never let me go,that way we will never be apart again. So every time you see a star think of me and my love for you, and I will always have you in my heart and in my dreams because that's how much you mean to me.There are moments which I only want to spend with you. There are days when I only want to see you. There are hours when I just want to hug you, but I don't want to spend just one second without you!
How can this be, that you've opened my mind?
My head is in the clouds yet never before
in my life have I thought as clearly as I do now.
How can this be, that you've opened my eyes?
The world has blinded me by all the tears I've cried these past two years.
Yet somehow I know I will only cry tears of joy
from the moment you touched my life and ever after.
How can this be, that you've opened my arms?
They've been so tightly wrapped around me,
shutting all else out and shielding my heart
from the emptiness I've had to endure from the loss I suffer daily.
Yet now they forever remain wide open for every possible moment
to be wrapped around your beauty and embracing the beauty of you.
How can this be, that you've opened my heart?
Two years I've spent building walls and securing the very part of me
that has been through such torture and torment
that goes beyond the vast boundaries of Hell itself to be repaired.
My heart has searched endlessly, never to find a way
until you broke down the walls and tenderly, slowly started to heal
the gashes and wounds with the gentle strength of your love.
How can this be, that you've opened the cold steel door
that has kept my dreams and inspirations locked away for so long?
You've awakened my senses and renewed my passions.
You've brought back to life my hopes and all that inspires me.
You've calmed the raging storms and put my fears to rest.
Now I only dream of all the future will bless us with side by side.
You've not only brought life back into me
but instilled the knowledge these dreams will come true.
How can this be, that you've opened the very being of my life
that makes me all that I am?
You've shown me that I am loved for who I am
and make me want to be the very best that I can be,
not just for you but for myself.
You encourage me to carry out my dreams
and I know that together we will both see each other fulfill
all we ever dreamed we could and so much more.
My life before was always missing this very important piece
and I have found it in you. How can this be, that you complete me?
Being next to you is where I love to be. It takes away my worries and sets my heart free. When I hold you in my arms nothing can compare. I look into your eyes and I cannot help but stare and, stare I do, at your beautiful face. It makes my heart beat at a truly amazing pace.When I touch your face I begin to shine, It's then that I realize you are mine. It's in your arms I feel no fear. It's in your arms my thoughts are clear. Clear, that in my arms I hold a treasure, a gift from God that I cannot measure. When you go outside and look up at the sky. I want you to count every star and always remember every star you count is an I Love You. I want you to feel my love everywhere you go and I want you to know that I will always have you in my heart. The day we meet again,I want you to hug me, hug me very tight, and never let me go,that way we will never be apart again. So every time you see a star think of me and my love for you, and I will always have you in my heart and in my dreams because that's how much you mean to me.There are moments which I only want to spend with you. There are days when I only want to see you. There are hours when I just want to hug you, but I don't want to spend just one second without you!
How can this be, that you've opened my mind?
My head is in the clouds yet never before
in my life have I thought as clearly as I do now.
How can this be, that you've opened my eyes?
The world has blinded me by all the tears I've cried these past two years.
Yet somehow I know I will only cry tears of joy
from the moment you touched my life and ever after.
How can this be, that you've opened my arms?
They've been so tightly wrapped around me,
shutting all else out and shielding my heart
from the emptiness I've had to endure from the loss I suffer daily.
Yet now they forever remain wide open for every possible moment
to be wrapped around your beauty and embracing the beauty of you.
How can this be, that you've opened my heart?
Two years I've spent building walls and securing the very part of me
that has been through such torture and torment
that goes beyond the vast boundaries of Hell itself to be repaired.
My heart has searched endlessly, never to find a way
until you broke down the walls and tenderly, slowly started to heal
the gashes and wounds with the gentle strength of your love.
How can this be, that you've opened the cold steel door
that has kept my dreams and inspirations locked away for so long?
You've awakened my senses and renewed my passions.
You've brought back to life my hopes and all that inspires me.
You've calmed the raging storms and put my fears to rest.
Now I only dream of all the future will bless us with side by side.
You've not only brought life back into me
but instilled the knowledge these dreams will come true.
How can this be, that you've opened the very being of my life
that makes me all that I am?
You've shown me that I am loved for who I am
and make me want to be the very best that I can be,
not just for you but for myself.
You encourage me to carry out my dreams
and I know that together we will both see each other fulfill
all we ever dreamed we could and so much more.
My life before was always missing this very important piece
and I have found it in you. How can this be, that you complete me?
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
LOVE LETTER: DARLING
Darling,
I feel above it all with you on my mind. The sun shines brighter and my happiness lasts longer. And I do not need to wish or dream for all my wishes and dreams stand at my feet as I hold you deep within my soul. I have never wanted anything more than you and I doubt anything more could ever cross my path. My first true joy I felt here, with you.. My words spoken in vain before I spoke them to you. I realize now, every touch was numb until I felt yours. Every kiss empty until I savored yours. You made my dreams islands. You found a way into my heart, through my fortified castle to which there was no entrance until you made one, until you found one, until I met you. Darling, it's you... that gave me light and rolled away my darkness, that gave me love and wiped away my loneliness, that gladdens me and washes away my sadness,that touched me and melted away my sorrow. It's you...whose whispers of joy blow away my mind, whose dreams of life give me the right direction,hose inferno of love burns all my worries whose passion for truth evaporates my doubts. It's only you... who show me true love for my sweet relief, who turn my mourning into dancing for me, who know my weakness and my sweetness, who promise to love me till the end of my life. Darling, it's you, who...in heaven and on earth would never watch me fall, in rain and in sunshine would give me hope, in winter and summer will never let me down and in life and death would always be by my side. How much do I love you? You'll never know,I love you further than numbers will ever go. If I lost my memory...I'd never forget those lovely nights and everything that came with them. And if I had to leave I'd write you every day,and if it was a long distance I'd call you anyway. If I had to give it all up to only be with you, go from power to pauper, then that's just what I'd do. If I was numb I'd still feel your touch, and if it had to be- I'd die for you... that's how much. I LOVE YOU!
I feel above it all with you on my mind. The sun shines brighter and my happiness lasts longer. And I do not need to wish or dream for all my wishes and dreams stand at my feet as I hold you deep within my soul. I have never wanted anything more than you and I doubt anything more could ever cross my path. My first true joy I felt here, with you.. My words spoken in vain before I spoke them to you. I realize now, every touch was numb until I felt yours. Every kiss empty until I savored yours. You made my dreams islands. You found a way into my heart, through my fortified castle to which there was no entrance until you made one, until you found one, until I met you. Darling, it's you... that gave me light and rolled away my darkness, that gave me love and wiped away my loneliness, that gladdens me and washes away my sadness,that touched me and melted away my sorrow. It's you...whose whispers of joy blow away my mind, whose dreams of life give me the right direction,hose inferno of love burns all my worries whose passion for truth evaporates my doubts. It's only you... who show me true love for my sweet relief, who turn my mourning into dancing for me, who know my weakness and my sweetness, who promise to love me till the end of my life. Darling, it's you, who...in heaven and on earth would never watch me fall, in rain and in sunshine would give me hope, in winter and summer will never let me down and in life and death would always be by my side. How much do I love you? You'll never know,I love you further than numbers will ever go. If I lost my memory...I'd never forget those lovely nights and everything that came with them. And if I had to leave I'd write you every day,and if it was a long distance I'd call you anyway. If I had to give it all up to only be with you, go from power to pauper, then that's just what I'd do. If I was numb I'd still feel your touch, and if it had to be- I'd die for you... that's how much. I LOVE YOU!
Monday, January 20, 2014
ARTICLE: FOR THE LOVE OF MONEY BY SAM POLK NY TIMES
For the Love of Money
By SAM POLK
IN my last year on Wall Street my bonus was $3.6 million — and I was angry because it wasn’t big enough. I was 30 years old, had no children to raise, no debts to pay, no philanthropic goal in mind. I wanted more money for exactly the same reason an alcoholic needs another drink: I was addicted.
Eight years earlier, I’d walked onto the trading floor at Credit Suisse First Boston to begin my summer internship. I already knew I wanted to be rich, but when I started out I had a different idea about what wealth meant. I’d come to Wall Street after reading in the book “Liar’s Poker” how Michael Lewis earned a $225,000 bonus after just two years of work on a trading floor. That seemed like a fortune. Every January and February, I think about that time, because these are the months when bonuses are decided and distributed, when fortunes are made.
RELATED IN OPINION
Room for Debate: Why We Like to Watch Rich PeopleJAN. 16, 2014
I’d learned about the importance of being rich from my dad. He was a modern-day Willy Loman, a salesman with huge dreams that never seemed to materialize. “Imagine what life will be like,” he’d say, “when I make a million dollars.” While he dreamed of selling a screenplay, in reality he sold kitchen cabinets. And not that well. We sometimes lived paycheck to paycheck off my mom’s nurse-practitioner salary.
Dad believed money would solve all his problems. At 22, so did I. When I walked onto that trading floor for the first time and saw the glowing flat-screen TVs, high-tech computer monitors and phone turrets with enough dials, knobs and buttons to make it seem like the cockpit of a fighter plane, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. It looked as if the traders were playing a video game inside a spaceship; if you won this video game, you became what I most wanted to be — rich.
IT was a miracle I’d made it to Wall Street at all. While I was competitive and ambitious — a wrestler at Columbia University — I was also a daily drinker and pot smoker and a regular user of cocaine, Ritalin and ecstasy. I had a propensity for self-destruction that had resulted in my getting suspended from Columbia for burglary, arrested twice and fired from an Internet company for fistfighting. I learned about rage from my dad, too. I can still see his red, contorted face as he charged toward me. I’d lied my way into the C.S.F.B. internship by omitting my transgressions from my résumé and was determined not to blow what seemed a final chance. The only thing as important to me as that internship was my girlfriend, a starter on the Columbia volleyball team. But even though I was in love with her, when I got drunk I’d sometimes end up with other women.
Three weeks into my internship she wisely dumped me. I don’t like who you’ve become, she said. I couldn’t blame her, but I was so devastated that I couldn’t get out of bed. In desperation, I called a counselor whom I had reluctantly seen a few times before and asked for help.
She helped me see that I was using alcohol and drugs to blunt the powerlessness I felt as a kid and suggested I give them up. That began some of the hardest months of my life. Without the alcohol and drugs in my system, I felt like my chest had been cracked open, exposing my heart to air. The counselor said that my abuse of drugs and alcohol was a symptom of an underlying problem — a “spiritual malady,” she called it. C.S.F.B. didn’t offer me a full-time job, and I returned, distraught, to Columbia for senior year.
After graduation, I got a job at Bank of America, by the grace of a managing director willing to take a chance on a kid who had called him every day for three weeks. With a year of sobriety under my belt, I was sharp, cleareyed and hard-working. At the end of my first year I was thrilled to receive a $40,000 bonus. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to check my balance before I withdrew money. But a week later, a trader who was only four years my senior got hired away by C.S.F.B. for $900,000. After my initial envious shock — his haul was 22 times the size of my bonus — I grew excited at how much money was available.
Over the next few years I worked like a maniac and began to move up the Wall Street ladder. I became a bond and credit default swap trader, one of the more lucrative roles in the business. Just four years after I started at Bank of America, Citibank offered me a “1.75 by 2” which means $1.75 million per year for two years, and I used it to get a promotion. I started dating a pretty blonde and rented a loft apartment on Bond Street for $6,000 a month.
I felt so important. At 25, I could go to any restaurant in Manhattan — Per Se, Le Bernardin — just by picking up the phone and calling one of my brokers, who ingratiate themselves to traders by entertaining with unlimited expense accounts. I could be second row at the Knicks-Lakers game just by hinting to a broker I might be interested in going. The satisfaction wasn’t just about the money. It was about the power. Because of how smart and successful I was, it was someone else’s job to make me happy.
Still, I was nagged by envy. On a trading desk everyone sits together, from interns to managing directors. When the guy next to you makes $10 million, $1 million or $2 million doesn’t look so sweet. Nonetheless, I was thrilled with my progress.
My counselor didn’t share my elation. She said I might be using money the same way I’d used drugs and alcohol — to make myself feel powerful — and that maybe it would benefit me to stop focusing on accumulating more and instead focus on healing my inner wound. “Inner wound”? I thought that was going a little far and went to work for a hedge fund.
Now, working elbow to elbow with billionaires, I was a giant fireball of greed. I’d think about how my colleagues could buy Micronesia if they wanted to, or become mayor of New York City. They didn’t just have money; they had power — power beyond getting a table at Le Bernardin. Senators came to their offices. They were royalty.
I wanted a billion dollars. It’s staggering to think that in the course of five years, I’d gone from being thrilled at my first bonus — $40,000 — to being disappointed when, my second year at the hedge fund, I was paid “only” $1.5 million.
But in the end, it was actually my absurdly wealthy bosses who helped me see the limitations of unlimited wealth. I was in a meeting with one of them, and a few other traders, and they were talking about the new hedge-fund regulations. Most everyone on Wall Street thought they were a bad idea. “But isn’t it better for the system as a whole?” I asked. The room went quiet, and my boss shot me a withering look. I remember his saying, “I don’t have the brain capacity to think about the system as a whole. All I’m concerned with is how this affects our company.”
I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut. He was afraid of losing money, despite all that he had.
From that moment on, I started to see Wall Street with new eyes. I noticed the vitriol that traders directed at the government for limiting bonuses after the crash. I heard the fury in their voices at the mention of higher taxes. These traders despised anything or anyone that threatened their bonuses. Ever see what a drug addict is like when he’s used up his junk? He’ll do anything — walk 20 miles in the snow, rob a grandma — to get a fix. Wall Street was like that. In the months before bonuses were handed out, the trading floor started to feel like a neighborhood in “The Wire” when the heroin runs out.
I’d always looked enviously at the people who earned more than I did; now, for the first time, I was embarrassed for them, and for me. I made in a single year more than my mom made her whole life. I knew that wasn’t fair; that wasn’t right. Yes, I was sharp, good with numbers. I had marketable talents. But in the end I didn’t really do anything. I was a derivatives trader, and it occurred to me the world would hardly change at all if credit derivatives ceased to exist. Not so nurse practitioners. What had seemed normal now seemed deeply distorted.
I had recently finished Taylor Branch’s three-volume series on the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement, and the image of the Freedom Riders stepping out of their bus into an infuriated mob had seared itself into my mind. I’d told myself that if I’d been alive in the ‘60s, I would have been on that bus.
But I was lying to myself. There were plenty of injustices out there — rampant poverty, swelling prison populations, a sexual-assault epidemic, an obesity crisis. Not only was I not helping to fix any problems in the world, but I was profiting from them. During the market crash in 2008, I’d made a ton of money by shorting the derivatives of risky companies. As the world crumbled, I profited. I’d seen the crash coming, but instead of trying to help the people it would hurt the most — people who didn’t have a million dollars in the bank — I’d made money off it. I don’t like who you’ve become, my girlfriend had said years earlier. She was right then, and she was still right. Only now, I didn’t like who I’d become either.
Wealth addiction was described by the late sociologist and playwright Philip Slater in a 1980 book, but addiction researchers have paid the concept little attention. Like alcoholics driving drunk, wealth addiction imperils everyone. Wealth addicts are, more than anybody, specifically responsible for the ever widening rift that is tearing apart our once great country. Wealth addicts are responsible for the vast and toxic disparity between the rich and the poor and the annihilation of the middle class. Only a wealth addict would feel justified in receiving $14 million in compensation — including an $8.5 million bonus — as the McDonald’s C.E.O., Don Thompson, did in 2012, while his company then published a brochure for its work force on how to survive on their low wages. Only a wealth addict would earn hundreds of millions as a hedge-fund manager, and then lobby to maintain a tax loophole that gave him a lower tax rate than his secretary.
DESPITE my realizations, it was incredibly difficult to leave. I was terrified of running out of money and of forgoing future bonuses. More than anything, I was afraid that five or 10 years down the road, I’d feel like an idiot for walking away from my one chance to be really important. What made it harder was that people thought I was crazy for thinking about leaving. In 2010, in a final paroxysm of my withering addiction, I demanded $8 million instead of $3.6 million. My bosses said they’d raise my bonus if I agreed to stay several more years. Instead, I walked away.
The first year was really hard. I went through what I can only describe as withdrawal — waking up at nights panicked about running out of money, scouring the headlines to see which of my old co-workers had gotten promoted. Over time it got easier — I started to realize that I had enough money, and if I needed to make more, I could. But my wealth addiction still hasn’t gone completely away. Sometimes I still buy lottery tickets.
In the three years since I left, I’ve married, spoken in jails and juvenile detention centers about getting sober, taught a writing class to girls in the foster system, and started a nonprofit called Groceryships to help poor families struggling with obesity and food addiction. I am much happier. I feel as if I’m making a real contribution. And as time passes, the distortion lessens. I see Wall Street’s mantra — “We’re smarter and work harder than everyone else, so we deserve all this money” — for what it is: the rationalization of addicts. From a distance I can see what I couldn’t see then — that Wall Street is a toxic culture that encourages the grandiosity of people who are desperately trying to feel powerful.
I was lucky. My experience with drugs and alcohol allowed me to recognize my pursuit of wealth as an addiction. The years of work I did with my counselor helped me heal the parts of myself that felt damaged and inadequate, so that I had enough of a core sense of self to walk away.
Dozens of different types of 12-step support groups — including Clutterers Anonymous and On-Line Gamers Anonymous — exist to help addicts of various types, yet there is no Wealth Addicts Anonymous. Why not? Because our culture supports and even lauds the addiction. Look at the magazine covers in any newsstand, plastered with the faces of celebrities and C.E.O.'s; the superrich are our cultural gods. I hope we all confront our part in enabling wealth addicts to exert so much influence over our country.
I generally think that if one is rich and believes they have “enough,” they are not a wealth addict. On Wall Street, in my experience, that sense of “enough” is rare. The money guy doing a job he complains about for yet another year so he can add $2 million to his $20 million bank account seems like an addict.
I recently got an email from a hedge-fund trader who said that though he was making millions every year, he felt trapped and empty, but couldn’t summon the courage to leave. I believe there are others out there. Maybe we can form a group and confront our addiction together. And if you identify with what I’ve written, but are reticent to leave, then take a small step in the right direction. Let’s create a fund, where everyone agrees to put, say, 25 percent of their annual bonuses into it, and we’ll use that to help some of the people who actually need the money that we’ve been so rabidly chasing. Together, maybe we can make a real contribution to the world.
By SAM POLK
IN my last year on Wall Street my bonus was $3.6 million — and I was angry because it wasn’t big enough. I was 30 years old, had no children to raise, no debts to pay, no philanthropic goal in mind. I wanted more money for exactly the same reason an alcoholic needs another drink: I was addicted.
Eight years earlier, I’d walked onto the trading floor at Credit Suisse First Boston to begin my summer internship. I already knew I wanted to be rich, but when I started out I had a different idea about what wealth meant. I’d come to Wall Street after reading in the book “Liar’s Poker” how Michael Lewis earned a $225,000 bonus after just two years of work on a trading floor. That seemed like a fortune. Every January and February, I think about that time, because these are the months when bonuses are decided and distributed, when fortunes are made.
RELATED IN OPINION
Room for Debate: Why We Like to Watch Rich PeopleJAN. 16, 2014
I’d learned about the importance of being rich from my dad. He was a modern-day Willy Loman, a salesman with huge dreams that never seemed to materialize. “Imagine what life will be like,” he’d say, “when I make a million dollars.” While he dreamed of selling a screenplay, in reality he sold kitchen cabinets. And not that well. We sometimes lived paycheck to paycheck off my mom’s nurse-practitioner salary.
Dad believed money would solve all his problems. At 22, so did I. When I walked onto that trading floor for the first time and saw the glowing flat-screen TVs, high-tech computer monitors and phone turrets with enough dials, knobs and buttons to make it seem like the cockpit of a fighter plane, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. It looked as if the traders were playing a video game inside a spaceship; if you won this video game, you became what I most wanted to be — rich.
IT was a miracle I’d made it to Wall Street at all. While I was competitive and ambitious — a wrestler at Columbia University — I was also a daily drinker and pot smoker and a regular user of cocaine, Ritalin and ecstasy. I had a propensity for self-destruction that had resulted in my getting suspended from Columbia for burglary, arrested twice and fired from an Internet company for fistfighting. I learned about rage from my dad, too. I can still see his red, contorted face as he charged toward me. I’d lied my way into the C.S.F.B. internship by omitting my transgressions from my résumé and was determined not to blow what seemed a final chance. The only thing as important to me as that internship was my girlfriend, a starter on the Columbia volleyball team. But even though I was in love with her, when I got drunk I’d sometimes end up with other women.
Three weeks into my internship she wisely dumped me. I don’t like who you’ve become, she said. I couldn’t blame her, but I was so devastated that I couldn’t get out of bed. In desperation, I called a counselor whom I had reluctantly seen a few times before and asked for help.
She helped me see that I was using alcohol and drugs to blunt the powerlessness I felt as a kid and suggested I give them up. That began some of the hardest months of my life. Without the alcohol and drugs in my system, I felt like my chest had been cracked open, exposing my heart to air. The counselor said that my abuse of drugs and alcohol was a symptom of an underlying problem — a “spiritual malady,” she called it. C.S.F.B. didn’t offer me a full-time job, and I returned, distraught, to Columbia for senior year.
After graduation, I got a job at Bank of America, by the grace of a managing director willing to take a chance on a kid who had called him every day for three weeks. With a year of sobriety under my belt, I was sharp, cleareyed and hard-working. At the end of my first year I was thrilled to receive a $40,000 bonus. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to check my balance before I withdrew money. But a week later, a trader who was only four years my senior got hired away by C.S.F.B. for $900,000. After my initial envious shock — his haul was 22 times the size of my bonus — I grew excited at how much money was available.
Over the next few years I worked like a maniac and began to move up the Wall Street ladder. I became a bond and credit default swap trader, one of the more lucrative roles in the business. Just four years after I started at Bank of America, Citibank offered me a “1.75 by 2” which means $1.75 million per year for two years, and I used it to get a promotion. I started dating a pretty blonde and rented a loft apartment on Bond Street for $6,000 a month.
I felt so important. At 25, I could go to any restaurant in Manhattan — Per Se, Le Bernardin — just by picking up the phone and calling one of my brokers, who ingratiate themselves to traders by entertaining with unlimited expense accounts. I could be second row at the Knicks-Lakers game just by hinting to a broker I might be interested in going. The satisfaction wasn’t just about the money. It was about the power. Because of how smart and successful I was, it was someone else’s job to make me happy.
Still, I was nagged by envy. On a trading desk everyone sits together, from interns to managing directors. When the guy next to you makes $10 million, $1 million or $2 million doesn’t look so sweet. Nonetheless, I was thrilled with my progress.
My counselor didn’t share my elation. She said I might be using money the same way I’d used drugs and alcohol — to make myself feel powerful — and that maybe it would benefit me to stop focusing on accumulating more and instead focus on healing my inner wound. “Inner wound”? I thought that was going a little far and went to work for a hedge fund.
Now, working elbow to elbow with billionaires, I was a giant fireball of greed. I’d think about how my colleagues could buy Micronesia if they wanted to, or become mayor of New York City. They didn’t just have money; they had power — power beyond getting a table at Le Bernardin. Senators came to their offices. They were royalty.
I wanted a billion dollars. It’s staggering to think that in the course of five years, I’d gone from being thrilled at my first bonus — $40,000 — to being disappointed when, my second year at the hedge fund, I was paid “only” $1.5 million.
But in the end, it was actually my absurdly wealthy bosses who helped me see the limitations of unlimited wealth. I was in a meeting with one of them, and a few other traders, and they were talking about the new hedge-fund regulations. Most everyone on Wall Street thought they were a bad idea. “But isn’t it better for the system as a whole?” I asked. The room went quiet, and my boss shot me a withering look. I remember his saying, “I don’t have the brain capacity to think about the system as a whole. All I’m concerned with is how this affects our company.”
I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut. He was afraid of losing money, despite all that he had.
From that moment on, I started to see Wall Street with new eyes. I noticed the vitriol that traders directed at the government for limiting bonuses after the crash. I heard the fury in their voices at the mention of higher taxes. These traders despised anything or anyone that threatened their bonuses. Ever see what a drug addict is like when he’s used up his junk? He’ll do anything — walk 20 miles in the snow, rob a grandma — to get a fix. Wall Street was like that. In the months before bonuses were handed out, the trading floor started to feel like a neighborhood in “The Wire” when the heroin runs out.
I’d always looked enviously at the people who earned more than I did; now, for the first time, I was embarrassed for them, and for me. I made in a single year more than my mom made her whole life. I knew that wasn’t fair; that wasn’t right. Yes, I was sharp, good with numbers. I had marketable talents. But in the end I didn’t really do anything. I was a derivatives trader, and it occurred to me the world would hardly change at all if credit derivatives ceased to exist. Not so nurse practitioners. What had seemed normal now seemed deeply distorted.
I had recently finished Taylor Branch’s three-volume series on the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement, and the image of the Freedom Riders stepping out of their bus into an infuriated mob had seared itself into my mind. I’d told myself that if I’d been alive in the ‘60s, I would have been on that bus.
But I was lying to myself. There were plenty of injustices out there — rampant poverty, swelling prison populations, a sexual-assault epidemic, an obesity crisis. Not only was I not helping to fix any problems in the world, but I was profiting from them. During the market crash in 2008, I’d made a ton of money by shorting the derivatives of risky companies. As the world crumbled, I profited. I’d seen the crash coming, but instead of trying to help the people it would hurt the most — people who didn’t have a million dollars in the bank — I’d made money off it. I don’t like who you’ve become, my girlfriend had said years earlier. She was right then, and she was still right. Only now, I didn’t like who I’d become either.
Wealth addiction was described by the late sociologist and playwright Philip Slater in a 1980 book, but addiction researchers have paid the concept little attention. Like alcoholics driving drunk, wealth addiction imperils everyone. Wealth addicts are, more than anybody, specifically responsible for the ever widening rift that is tearing apart our once great country. Wealth addicts are responsible for the vast and toxic disparity between the rich and the poor and the annihilation of the middle class. Only a wealth addict would feel justified in receiving $14 million in compensation — including an $8.5 million bonus — as the McDonald’s C.E.O., Don Thompson, did in 2012, while his company then published a brochure for its work force on how to survive on their low wages. Only a wealth addict would earn hundreds of millions as a hedge-fund manager, and then lobby to maintain a tax loophole that gave him a lower tax rate than his secretary.
DESPITE my realizations, it was incredibly difficult to leave. I was terrified of running out of money and of forgoing future bonuses. More than anything, I was afraid that five or 10 years down the road, I’d feel like an idiot for walking away from my one chance to be really important. What made it harder was that people thought I was crazy for thinking about leaving. In 2010, in a final paroxysm of my withering addiction, I demanded $8 million instead of $3.6 million. My bosses said they’d raise my bonus if I agreed to stay several more years. Instead, I walked away.
The first year was really hard. I went through what I can only describe as withdrawal — waking up at nights panicked about running out of money, scouring the headlines to see which of my old co-workers had gotten promoted. Over time it got easier — I started to realize that I had enough money, and if I needed to make more, I could. But my wealth addiction still hasn’t gone completely away. Sometimes I still buy lottery tickets.
In the three years since I left, I’ve married, spoken in jails and juvenile detention centers about getting sober, taught a writing class to girls in the foster system, and started a nonprofit called Groceryships to help poor families struggling with obesity and food addiction. I am much happier. I feel as if I’m making a real contribution. And as time passes, the distortion lessens. I see Wall Street’s mantra — “We’re smarter and work harder than everyone else, so we deserve all this money” — for what it is: the rationalization of addicts. From a distance I can see what I couldn’t see then — that Wall Street is a toxic culture that encourages the grandiosity of people who are desperately trying to feel powerful.
I was lucky. My experience with drugs and alcohol allowed me to recognize my pursuit of wealth as an addiction. The years of work I did with my counselor helped me heal the parts of myself that felt damaged and inadequate, so that I had enough of a core sense of self to walk away.
Dozens of different types of 12-step support groups — including Clutterers Anonymous and On-Line Gamers Anonymous — exist to help addicts of various types, yet there is no Wealth Addicts Anonymous. Why not? Because our culture supports and even lauds the addiction. Look at the magazine covers in any newsstand, plastered with the faces of celebrities and C.E.O.'s; the superrich are our cultural gods. I hope we all confront our part in enabling wealth addicts to exert so much influence over our country.
I generally think that if one is rich and believes they have “enough,” they are not a wealth addict. On Wall Street, in my experience, that sense of “enough” is rare. The money guy doing a job he complains about for yet another year so he can add $2 million to his $20 million bank account seems like an addict.
I recently got an email from a hedge-fund trader who said that though he was making millions every year, he felt trapped and empty, but couldn’t summon the courage to leave. I believe there are others out there. Maybe we can form a group and confront our addiction together. And if you identify with what I’ve written, but are reticent to leave, then take a small step in the right direction. Let’s create a fund, where everyone agrees to put, say, 25 percent of their annual bonuses into it, and we’ll use that to help some of the people who actually need the money that we’ve been so rabidly chasing. Together, maybe we can make a real contribution to the world.
THOUGHTS
A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, and make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life
When I say, “I love you,” it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a woman.”
You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect, you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can.She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she maked you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.
When I say, “I love you,” it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a woman.”
You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect, you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can.She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she maked you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.
DATING/LOVE: I ONLY DATE WOMAN WHO ARE INTERESTED IN ME
Life is too short to waste your time on pursuits with no a low return on investment.I only date women who are INTERESTED in me.I don't have women in my life that don't love me. It is not a 'negative attitude'. It is a WEEDING OUT PROCESS. I weed out unsuitable women. What's unsuitable?
LOW interest. Why met her if she doesn't respond back to my text.? Low interest. Why met her if she doesn't ask about me?'. LOW interest. Why met her if she always busy and doesn't have time for me? LOW INTEREST!!!! I have noticed that when a woman is completely into you, she is willing to do absolutely ANYTHING to make your life easy?
Her eyes just light up on seeing you and she greets you with the warmest smile, accompanied by a tight hug or a kiss.She never flakes out or breaks dates. Instead, she always manages to find a way to be with you, regardless of how difficult her circumstances are.She treats you like a king and talks to you with utmost respect.
When their interest is always below my own. I feel like I'm always the one trying to "make it work". Either keeping the conversation flowing, or initiating hanging out.I believe in two concept...The Reality Factor (“Things are the way they are. If you go against reality, reality works against you, resulting in pain.”) and The Bottom Line Factor (“Only a woman’s actions truly reflect her feelings toward you.”) To you Psych majors: a man should only love a woman who loves him first and a lot. Even though Miss Right is beautiful, inside and out, I still ask myself , "Is she going to be part of the crew or part of the cargo?" To you Psych majors again, “Is she high maintenance or low maintenance?”So, what comprises a good female attitude? Integrity, giving, and flexibility.
What does educational level have to do with emotion? What does your degree have to do with the way someone treats you? ZIP,
LOW interest. Why met her if she doesn't respond back to my text.? Low interest. Why met her if she doesn't ask about me?'. LOW interest. Why met her if she always busy and doesn't have time for me? LOW INTEREST!!!! I have noticed that when a woman is completely into you, she is willing to do absolutely ANYTHING to make your life easy?
Her eyes just light up on seeing you and she greets you with the warmest smile, accompanied by a tight hug or a kiss.She never flakes out or breaks dates. Instead, she always manages to find a way to be with you, regardless of how difficult her circumstances are.She treats you like a king and talks to you with utmost respect.
When their interest is always below my own. I feel like I'm always the one trying to "make it work". Either keeping the conversation flowing, or initiating hanging out.I believe in two concept...The Reality Factor (“Things are the way they are. If you go against reality, reality works against you, resulting in pain.”) and The Bottom Line Factor (“Only a woman’s actions truly reflect her feelings toward you.”) To you Psych majors: a man should only love a woman who loves him first and a lot. Even though Miss Right is beautiful, inside and out, I still ask myself , "Is she going to be part of the crew or part of the cargo?" To you Psych majors again, “Is she high maintenance or low maintenance?”So, what comprises a good female attitude? Integrity, giving, and flexibility.
What does educational level have to do with emotion? What does your degree have to do with the way someone treats you? ZIP,
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
LOVE/DATING: WOMAN WHO LOVE LOSER >> SHOULD HAVE THIS SAYING TATOO ON TOP OF THEIR PY "NO ROMANCE WITHOUT FINANCE"
With a male world population of 3+ billion, why on earth would any woman ever settle for a deadbeat loser?
To me..settling for a deadbeat loser is like settling for a job you hate. There are way too many people who hate their jobs and keep on doing them, just like there are way too many women who settle for men who treat them poorly. What is it about non-ideal situations which makes us keep carrying on, doing nothing to change?
My theory is that in the beginning, most women don’t know the guy is a deadbeat loser. He probably is reasonably attractive and tells a good story about his current situation and his ambitions. Obviously, he will be on his best behavior during the wooing process. It might take one week, or it might take many months, but until a consummation is made, guys can be very charming! By the time a woman hooks up with the guy, only afterward will she see his true colors.
Her “oh, shit” moment comes at a time after she’s given everything to him. As we are generally all optimists, a woman believes she can salvage the relationship and change him for the better. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tries, she can’t teach a gorilla how to put down the toilet seat, pay for dinner, and write her sweet notes of nothing. It’s too late, and eventually, the relationship fades. In retrospect, every woman who has gone out with a deadbeat loser realizes the case. “I don’t know what I was thinking“, is a phrase that always comes up.
WHAT’S IN THEIR HEADS
They don’t believe they are worthy. Above all else, I believe that the reason why most woman settle for someone suboptimal is because they believe they aren’t deserving of more. This is utterly disappointing and ludicrous. You don’t deserve to be mistreated or taken advantage of ever! You deserve to have someone love you back as much as you love them. Those who ask for promotions get promotions.
They’re afraid to be alone. Life isn’t worth living if there’s nobody special to share it with. I’d rather be a median waged person with a loved one than be a lonely billionaire in the long run. It’s irrational to think that you will die alone given the population of the world today. Every day, we have the opportunity to meet a hundred people if we want to. It just takes initiative.I have to remind myself of this as well.
They think they can teach a dog how to speak. If there are five “must haves” such as humor, compassion, motivation, spontaneous, cultured and he has three out of five, the temptation is to settle. Perhaps over time, you believe he’ll be able to develop the other two must haves and be that ideal guy. You’ll be able to change him for the better, which is hardly ever the case. The problem with this thought process is that he might actually lose one of the three must haves, and then you’re really going to feel bitter for wasting your precious youth on him!
They’re afraid to get hurt. If we never try meeting other people, we will never get rejected. It’s truly disheartening when someone else doesn’t show you the same interest as you’ve shown them. Guys get rejected left and right because for some reason, society has told us we always have to initiate. Rejection doesn’t get that much easier to deal with after a while. Instead, we settle for what we have or just being a lone. That’s sad, because time isn’t on our side. The older women get, the smaller the pool since women refuse to be with men younger than them, whereas it’s everything goes for guys!
They’re losers themselves! Deadbeat women tend to go out with deadbeat men. Society always sees men as losers, and women as misguided. I guess there is equality for all, after all!
“ALL THE GOOD ONES ARE ALWAYS ALREADY TAKEN”
One of the best excuses women tell me for not wanting to be with an attractive guy who has all she wants is that she’s afraid she won’t be able to hang on to him. She’s afraid other women will be all over him, while she’s also afraid as she grows older, he’ll stop wanting to be with her.
This type of reasoning is very hard for men to understand because guys think they might as well be with the hottest and nicest woman possible in her prime, and lose her later than have someone less appealing. Guys also love it when their woman gets all the attention from other guys. I guess it’s because guys ignorantly believe their women will never cheat on them. Of course, we all know women cheat on men as much as men cheat on women.
I’ve heard so many stories from women who have been with guys for years and their main complaint isn’t cheating, or being used, it’s the fact that their men aren’t doing shit with their lives. If a guy fucks you and never calls, you learn and become a wiser person. If a man pops in and out of your life using you, eventually you will smarten up and stop being his victim. But to be crazy in love with a guy who is content being at the bottom will create lifelong problems. He will tell you he loves you, he will marry you, and he will give you kids, but he will also stay at the same pay level, waste money on dumb shit, and blame others for his lack of success until the day he dies. To love a man with no ambition or drive is like having an adult kid who refuses to move out of the basement. Is that really the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?
The #1 way to prevent falling in Love With A Loser is to recognize what kind of person he is before you become exclusive. If he’s not going to school, I’m talking full time; not taking one class at community to keep his mother off his back, homie should have a J.O.B. No Romance Without Finance should be tatted above your vagina so you never forget this simple yet effective rule.
How are you going to explain to your friends that you can’t go on that cruise because your boyfriend is almost out of the money he won in a car accident 14 years ago? Girls talk about, “I do this for my man, I do that for my man, I’m a good woman“, but what the fuck is your man doing for you besides half eating your coochie and taking you fine dining at McDonalds one a week? It’s not about how much money he is making right now, it’s about him working towards making more in the near the future. Not everyone is going to be rich in life, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay at the bottom. There is always a job available, but most dudes think they are too good to flip burgers or stock shelves. The people who are too good for those jobs are called “college educated” and if you were too lazy to get a higher education or learn a trade, you can’t complain about entry-level positions. “The Economy Bad” is the most bullshit excuse in the world.
Common sense would dictate that we men should strive to have a relationship with a woman with ambition and a career, but that’s rarely the case. We don’t want to fuck shorty because she has a Benz, we want to fuck shorty because of how she looks. It’s the Cinderella effect, men don’t care where you come from, we’re more concerned about how sexy you looked when you walked into that room. The Prince will pass up all of these equally powerful women for a woman who was going nowhere fast because men hunt for trophies, not partners.
To me..settling for a deadbeat loser is like settling for a job you hate. There are way too many people who hate their jobs and keep on doing them, just like there are way too many women who settle for men who treat them poorly. What is it about non-ideal situations which makes us keep carrying on, doing nothing to change?
My theory is that in the beginning, most women don’t know the guy is a deadbeat loser. He probably is reasonably attractive and tells a good story about his current situation and his ambitions. Obviously, he will be on his best behavior during the wooing process. It might take one week, or it might take many months, but until a consummation is made, guys can be very charming! By the time a woman hooks up with the guy, only afterward will she see his true colors.
Her “oh, shit” moment comes at a time after she’s given everything to him. As we are generally all optimists, a woman believes she can salvage the relationship and change him for the better. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tries, she can’t teach a gorilla how to put down the toilet seat, pay for dinner, and write her sweet notes of nothing. It’s too late, and eventually, the relationship fades. In retrospect, every woman who has gone out with a deadbeat loser realizes the case. “I don’t know what I was thinking“, is a phrase that always comes up.
WHAT’S IN THEIR HEADS
They don’t believe they are worthy. Above all else, I believe that the reason why most woman settle for someone suboptimal is because they believe they aren’t deserving of more. This is utterly disappointing and ludicrous. You don’t deserve to be mistreated or taken advantage of ever! You deserve to have someone love you back as much as you love them. Those who ask for promotions get promotions.
They’re afraid to be alone. Life isn’t worth living if there’s nobody special to share it with. I’d rather be a median waged person with a loved one than be a lonely billionaire in the long run. It’s irrational to think that you will die alone given the population of the world today. Every day, we have the opportunity to meet a hundred people if we want to. It just takes initiative.I have to remind myself of this as well.
They think they can teach a dog how to speak. If there are five “must haves” such as humor, compassion, motivation, spontaneous, cultured and he has three out of five, the temptation is to settle. Perhaps over time, you believe he’ll be able to develop the other two must haves and be that ideal guy. You’ll be able to change him for the better, which is hardly ever the case. The problem with this thought process is that he might actually lose one of the three must haves, and then you’re really going to feel bitter for wasting your precious youth on him!
They’re afraid to get hurt. If we never try meeting other people, we will never get rejected. It’s truly disheartening when someone else doesn’t show you the same interest as you’ve shown them. Guys get rejected left and right because for some reason, society has told us we always have to initiate. Rejection doesn’t get that much easier to deal with after a while. Instead, we settle for what we have or just being a lone. That’s sad, because time isn’t on our side. The older women get, the smaller the pool since women refuse to be with men younger than them, whereas it’s everything goes for guys!
They’re losers themselves! Deadbeat women tend to go out with deadbeat men. Society always sees men as losers, and women as misguided. I guess there is equality for all, after all!
“ALL THE GOOD ONES ARE ALWAYS ALREADY TAKEN”
One of the best excuses women tell me for not wanting to be with an attractive guy who has all she wants is that she’s afraid she won’t be able to hang on to him. She’s afraid other women will be all over him, while she’s also afraid as she grows older, he’ll stop wanting to be with her.
This type of reasoning is very hard for men to understand because guys think they might as well be with the hottest and nicest woman possible in her prime, and lose her later than have someone less appealing. Guys also love it when their woman gets all the attention from other guys. I guess it’s because guys ignorantly believe their women will never cheat on them. Of course, we all know women cheat on men as much as men cheat on women.
I’ve heard so many stories from women who have been with guys for years and their main complaint isn’t cheating, or being used, it’s the fact that their men aren’t doing shit with their lives. If a guy fucks you and never calls, you learn and become a wiser person. If a man pops in and out of your life using you, eventually you will smarten up and stop being his victim. But to be crazy in love with a guy who is content being at the bottom will create lifelong problems. He will tell you he loves you, he will marry you, and he will give you kids, but he will also stay at the same pay level, waste money on dumb shit, and blame others for his lack of success until the day he dies. To love a man with no ambition or drive is like having an adult kid who refuses to move out of the basement. Is that really the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?
The #1 way to prevent falling in Love With A Loser is to recognize what kind of person he is before you become exclusive. If he’s not going to school, I’m talking full time; not taking one class at community to keep his mother off his back, homie should have a J.O.B. No Romance Without Finance should be tatted above your vagina so you never forget this simple yet effective rule.
How are you going to explain to your friends that you can’t go on that cruise because your boyfriend is almost out of the money he won in a car accident 14 years ago? Girls talk about, “I do this for my man, I do that for my man, I’m a good woman“, but what the fuck is your man doing for you besides half eating your coochie and taking you fine dining at McDonalds one a week? It’s not about how much money he is making right now, it’s about him working towards making more in the near the future. Not everyone is going to be rich in life, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay at the bottom. There is always a job available, but most dudes think they are too good to flip burgers or stock shelves. The people who are too good for those jobs are called “college educated” and if you were too lazy to get a higher education or learn a trade, you can’t complain about entry-level positions. “The Economy Bad” is the most bullshit excuse in the world.
Common sense would dictate that we men should strive to have a relationship with a woman with ambition and a career, but that’s rarely the case. We don’t want to fuck shorty because she has a Benz, we want to fuck shorty because of how she looks. It’s the Cinderella effect, men don’t care where you come from, we’re more concerned about how sexy you looked when you walked into that room. The Prince will pass up all of these equally powerful women for a woman who was going nowhere fast because men hunt for trophies, not partners.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)