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Odbrana i posljednji dan

Wednesday, the day before a positive resolution of my crisis (described in the previous post) I've reached another resolution, in a moment of weakness.

I decided there's no way I will move out of my apartment. Not while I live. Empty of all emotions, but resigned with lack of perspective, I've decided to finish it all and was thinking about how best to write my last will and testament. This gave me a sense of purpose again and I've spent the day walking about and laughing and crying at the same time. My last will was becoming an art project infused with humor, but then I realised how many people will I hurt with this early and cowardly check-out and was disappointed to realise humor in that last piece of writing would be somewhat improper (or maybe not, if I managed to convince people that I have reached a peace of mind).

Later that day, I realised that moving back to Croatia, to live with my mother until I get a hold of things would not, or should not, be making me feel like a looser. I should think of it as a strategic retreat and to use the opportunity to establish a relationship with my mother that would finally (hopefully) be more resembling a relationship between two friends, then a narcissistic mother and and her son who can not stand being mothered...

Odbrana i posljednji dan ("Defence and the last day"), has thus became more a one-man's Masada, where defense simply meant taking control of the innevitable.

All this brainstorming and newly find sense of resolve and perspective must have been reflected on my appearance, because women were reacting to me in a way (and number) that was until now completely new to me. One woman (whom I do not remember ever seeing before) was all over me, so much so that I had to leave the bar early, not being able to establish what's on her mind, and avoid a fight if she was using me to make her boyfriend jealous or something. Another one (at some other place) clearly hinted she would like to see me again. I've played pool with her (and won!), perhaps something that I may have done not more than 15 times in my life. I really suck at pool, but had a beginner's luck. I've comforted another, elderly woman, who has (like me) just lost her job and was very saddened. I was good at showing empathy and providing support, she cheared up. This was happening in front of the woman I beat in pool (a Polish woman with a wickedly kinky smile and an appetizing figure), and for the second time I realised how what I was doing with one woman looks like a social proof to another, who reacts to it. I was flirting innocently with that same elderly (South-African) woman some months ago, and while leaving the bar to help her take her shopping to the apartment, another bar-tender handed me her phone number, out of the blue! Funny, how things work.

Walking about around Scheveningen in the Hague, I paid a compliment to some stylish middle-aged Latina, entered into conversing with her and set a date with her on Monday. She's from Aruba. I have a soft spot for "exotic" women...

I am always happy to notice how effective an "open book" I've become, where I communicate and so effectively with no words.