The coronavirus has broken my heart

In the beginning of 2020 in Greece, I gave myself two aims for the year : making benefice, and finding a girlfriend.

There was a small shy brunette in this city... How she was staring at me ! She was looking at me lovely, as never any woman had looked at me. To think I came back to Catalonia mostly because it was easier for me to find sex... But I always remember her face, her black eyes deep and shining like the abyss, her balanced body, her total determination... I could have found sex there if there wasn't that stupid paranoia.

When I came back to Catalonia, I've never found any woman that could fill my heart with love. There was a Colombian woman, but she wasn't interested in me... To think that small Greek brunette was so charming that she made me forget Juliette...

I even have written a poem for that charming brunette.

And I carry on my way, looking for a job and a home in the young town of Roses in Spain... But I always remember her face, her eyes staring at me with love, and the sweet smell of that woman... The coronavirus has broken my heart.

Moving to Spain

I am tired of the French mentality : no sexual freedom, no enterprising freedom, no technological freedom....

I am trying to move to Spain to the town of Roses, that seems young and dynamic. I'm so excited !

Sex, tapas and solar power ! :-)

I have to go

France has become a dictatorship. There is no sexual freedom, no enterprising freedom, no technological freedom. And I think about death each time I they give me that poison.

I have to go.

Deep inside me, I suffer

In appearance, I look better in France than when I was in Greece : less confusion, less blocks in my mind, good food, good sex... But deep inside me, I suffer. I have no girlfriend. No chance to get a faithful one in Spain. I have no garden. No work to do. And I feel bad in my body.

Happiness lies in the way of life. The way of life I had in Greece, based on gardening, working on renewable energies and the pursuit of love made me happier than the sterile, boring life I have now.

Why don't I go back to Greece ? The answer is simple : terror. When I was there, there was a lot of paranoia and repression. I wish Greeks become optimistic, as fantasies tend to be true...

I wanna move to Spain, but I have no faith in it. The quality of life sucks. They have no brain. They're lazy. Spain is similar to the USA : a country with shit infrastructure, moved by hybris, always doing too big... You can't have both quantity and quality.

I just have no faith in it. I just wish that Greece starts to recover, becoming more optimistic, doing more children...

Besides, the strategy in Greece is simpler than in Spain.

Greece's strategy :

+ Finding an appartment for 200 € a month with a garden ;
+ Doing cheaper renewable energies ;
+ Going to a dance club to find the woman of my life.

Spain's strategy :

+ Finding an appartment for 400 € a month and having budget trouble OR keeping the appartment in France and having body and mind weakness ;
+ Finding a field to build my autonomous house alone ;
+ Going to a sport club to find a girlfriend, without long-term reliability.

What do you think ? If I overcome terror, the Greek strategy is better.

Mécanophile ou zoophile ?

Vous aimez votre vélo. Vous préférez les bonnes vieilles mécaniques bien rôdées aux machines modernes dont l'entendement dépasse votre cerveau de brute primitive. Continuez à prendre soin de votre vélo, laissez votre relation évoluer, et qui sait, peut-être vous réservera-t-elle de bonnes surprises.

Vous êtes amoureux de votre cheval : non mais vous vous rendez compte de ce que vous faites ?! Vous pensez sincèrement pouvoir continuer à lui donner de grosses carottes à bouffer toute sa vie ?! Comment osez-vous le câliner, alors que ce n'est qu'un animal ! Vous feriez mieux de le laisser brouter tranquillement dans des prés, ou alors en faire des steaks, comme ça après on pourra les manger.