Her name is Arianna....

It is funny sad that I feel I have poetry in my soul which will never escape. I wrote a poem for that girl who I will call Arianna and she never once commented on it. Never even a thanks, that sucked but thanks for the effort.. Even though I know she is real...that I did find her in my Facebook feed, I can't help but wonder if she ever read it. It wasn't one of my best poems because I have a nervous heart. She likes poetry so I tried to write her a sonnet which is not so serious. A play on words...more of a dance than a real deep powerful emotion which I find poems that don't rhyme to be.

I suppose it got lost in the clutter of my emails then. When we first met I wanted her to help me market this Facebook application I am building because if you spend just 30 seconds looking at her face when she talks you cannot help but to fall head over feat like I did. Those were the good days I suppose and use the days because it was good for all of a few days. She wrote me the longest most wonderful emails where time would stop for me. I would close my office door at work, get a drink and simply devour each and every word. Then one day she ever found time to send me a video of her talking without make so I might see what she looked like flawed, not perfect. In my whole life no girl has ever done anything sweeter for me..but that was the high...and me thinks I am simply hoping...lol...yes your right I am a fool.

I live on this side of the world...she lives on the other. My past is dark...my life is dark as I sit alone on my computer each night wishing I had a life while she is living one. Even if geography wasn't the problem I would be. It must be me..she is too nice to say it like she was too nice to say she was too busy to help with my blog. She simply does not fancy me, like I fancy her...so instead of telling me this which might seem cruel... she pauses letting me read the signs I do not want to read.

And so this blog I write so I don't write her becomes a place where I share my saddness I suppose now. Reconfirming my inner fear that I am unlovable. That I might look good at the start but as someone starts to see inside my uneven, almost desperate need to just not feel lonely makes all people pause...

And so with a heavy heart I once again turn to my favorite poem which maybe is to big for this because I did not love her... I just knew if given the chance perhaps I could...


Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example: "The night is shattered,
and the blue stars shiver in the distance."

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
That I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this one, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not not have loved her great, still eyes?

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered, and she is not with me.

This is all.
In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same the same trees.
We, we who were, are the no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her ear.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms,
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.

~ Pablo Neruda

Most would think me insane I suppose for feeling so much for a girl I only knew from a few emails...but if you met this girl you would know..this Arianna.

Could you win a girls heart with just a story..

Even if this is just a dream...what choice do I have but to write? My heart is full of this...stuff I need to release and since I am certain she is not real.. I need to make her real. Perhaps with these words I can build a reality in my imagination where I am not left alone on the cliff and her hand does touch mine.

Yes...I will write her a story...it will be a mix of magic, science, heroes and bad people, but mostly about love...about how one man must struggle with his inner demons and who he is meant to become...something silly like that and maybe that will cause the girl in my dreams to notice me...to share a smile towards me.

I wonder how foolish I must sound to those around me...but I am just a boy trying to win the attention of a girl..

This is a dream...I am certian of it...

I broke as I so often do. Finding my heart which is always stronger than my mind, caused these fingers to go to my email and write to her. Asking to see her far sooner than before. Fear driving me...fear that my words seem to not enchant her like before. Fear she is losing interest in me and will find another.

I quickly awoke this morning and told her not to worry about that. To simply live her life and if through my letters she finds her heart calls for me I will come...I will find a way even if I must go broke to look into her eyes in person but it is a dream...a moment I cannot hope for..hope is bad for me. I always push too hard...always try too hard and the girl feels suffocated by the overwhelming nature of my heart. I believed those words they to often use in movies. Maybe I still believe. Problem is life would never allow a love like that to exist.

How do I stop wanting to hear her words, how do I stop wanting to see this girl that brings forth these words? I know I must give her time to breath..to miss me.. but I feel so much. I have been alone for so long that I just want someone to share it with...I want to share it with her but shouldn't she act the same way back? Shouldn't she find the time to .. I don't know. I always get it wrong when it comes to girls and the advice others have for me asks me not to be who I am.

I already know the logical answer, I already know the psychology of the chase. It just isn't who I am. My soul is always there for you to see..raw..naked..open...

She says write but I feel like I am on the cliff with my hand reaching back, expecting to feel her hand in mine... only to look back and she is not there..how can I write if she is not there to inspire?

Its why I am certain this is nothing more than a dream..that I am still alone in my basement suite, in my mothers house, laying in my bed, unwilling to wake up. Maybe I never did wake up and am in some coma, in some hospital bed trying to find my way to her. That would make sense because this is how I have always felt towards love since Asha.

Waiting for it to happen again...only to find I am alone...always alone. My subconscious must be playing that story over and over again in my mind. Still doesn't make it easier. Talk about doomed... if you can't even get a girl to find you spectacular in your dreams then what is the point of waking up and having this happen if I were to live again.

URLpirates.com: loss of a friend...

I don't have many friends. I am too wild...to odd..too crazy. I don't have any guy friends because if you read my other blog at www.gebalove.com you will know I can never trust male friends. So when I say I value you the few woman in my life very deeply I hope you will believe me. They are few. One girl I have always admired I will will call Ariel because I don't want to use real names. You understand..online one moment can define a person and she is so much more than one moment. Her I treasure so I will not do that by using her real name.

Ariel is one of the rare girls I don't let my boyish perversion corrupt. Most times as men we can image a pretty girl in some intimate way but I have never let myself look at her like that even though her beauty is breathtaking to watch. I like her story and her love story too much..I also think the man she loves to be equally good and deserving of such a beauty. I admire love, real love when it is good and hold that in a higher respect than anything else in this world because maybe if there was a god it would be found i that love. Her love story is what I hope someday to find with this cracked heart of mine which I fear will always hurt those I love the most.

Unlike most girls when it came to love she had the courage to do things right and got a man most girls would dream of having. She was deeper than someone with her good looks usually ends up being, noticing the ills of the world along with the good. Most of us gloss over the bad because it makes us feel bad about our lives.

Ariel and I never really talked much. It would be hard to call us friends because we have never sat down for coffee or watched a movie together. Not that is unusual, you have seen me...would you be taken out in public with me?

I was more the person outside her circle who would offer her a different perspective on things....it is what I am good at...offering variation.

About 3 months ago she came online distraught at the prospect of spending another year away from the man she loved. He is one of those lucky few who gets to play sports for living but to do so he had to leave the woman he loved. She wondered allowed on MSN if she could do it. I tried my best to show her she could, that a girl with her talent for photography could travel with him on the other side of the planet and not simply live off the wealth he attained by playing with a ball. I like to think I helped and maybe I did, but not in the way I suggested for a week later she joined some company. One of those Avon like companies but this one done through a website where you pay $50 a month. I was supportive and even happy for her that I bought products from her site wanting her to feel the joy you get get when someone buys something and you earn a commission even though the website they gave her had huge flaws. Poorly done would be an understatement for someone like me. The work flow was horrid, its check out procedure required far too many steps and a lot of people would of found its design frustrating to use. Furthermore it lacked some basic marketing tools...something as simple as allowing for a real URL to be attached to it giving the owner the ability to have a true search hit in google. It was written in flash making it difficult for search engines to show off her wares.

Still I was supportive. I wanted to help so I suggested that since the company she worked for, like Avon, was built upon social networks that she use websites like digg, stumbleupon and twitter to promote her services. I suggested she write a blog because I was sure if she gave people a glimpse of her in a real way they would love her as I would. Sadly she never heard my words only replying she would talk to her sponsors ignoring me.... I soon gave up realizing that she did not trust my advice instead as much as the others.

I went to her site looking for a link to some central website which would explain the company she was a part of. There was none and apparently this company has no central website which worried me.... It begged the question how could a company be real without a website.

Still I brushed if off, thinking this was simply the way it was.

Then something strange happened which likely would not seem strange to most. She began to talk to me regularly, almost once a week. She didn't try to sell me on things...it was more questions about how was I. I didn't understand this because it was questions she never asked or cared to know before...why was she asking now? When you have few friends and you have no trust for life you quickly learn to read between the lines. Being in sales I knew the answer, an answer I did not like and sometimes I would write an email telling her she didn't have to spend time on me. I would support her in any way I could by recommending her site and her products. Sending people links and videos when I felt it was warranted. I would always delete those emails in the end knowing being a friend meant letting her do what she must.

Still it bothered me enough that I blocked her from my MSN because when you have lived with the scraps of friends for so long..knowing that these scraps were because I was a client not a friend hurt too much. I didn't want to hurt her feelings so it was easier to block her.

Then one day she said hello on Facebook chat which is still full of bugs. I answered and she asked me if I wanted to go listen to some guy talk. I didn't because I would never want others to feel as if I did. I tried to give her excuses instead of just saying no. I told her I feared people, I told her of the hurt I had experienced in my past but she would not listen. Then things got angry and I was forced to give her the no.

She didn't like the fact I called it selling me instead using words like "help you succeed", it would be "good for you" and then I understood what she could not. Pain at a young age had given me the ability to see how things connect. To see the macro and see truths others cannot see. I am never apart of something so like Hamlet I would watch beneath the madness. It was painful to see this girl I cared for fall so deeply into this corporate indoctrination. The formula is all to common.

You play on the need for a better life...a life that gives you the financial freedom to chose the life you want and not be a slave to circumstance. You parade examples of people who have had success doing this and retired young to validate your point that the promise of riches is just the right business plan away. This message is always sold to you by some friend just as you will sell the same message to some friend. Never do you see the global raw data done by a 3rd party showing those who succeed is always less than those who do.

The way you make money is you get a commission for anything you might sell and you also get commission for anything those below you sell, those you recruit into what I liken to a corporate cult.

Most of us outside this cult would use words like pyramid scheme or multi level marketing but do not mention that to those in the cult for they will scream and rant how it is different. How they "make your life better" with real things instead of promises to be broken, ignoring the fact that the word pyramid is simply a visual way to describe the common dime a dozen MMA business model. They would rant about how they never sold anything either which I always found amusing. They helped you get better health, they helped people achieve their dreams. Maybe that is true I don't know but it bothered me. The whole thing bothered me and the thing that bothered me the most was it involved selling your friends. Oops I should not say selling because she would argue she never sold me on anything.

The thing is I have been selling software world wide for years. I have traveled the world over and over again and understand sales. I understood the idea that people will buy from those they cared about. That I had already bought stuff from her because of the strings of friendship. That you don't have to sell those around you as much as you have to make them care enough about you to want you succeed.

Maybe I am reading to much into this but it seemed wrong to me. In this world where we are getting sold on our TV, online, our phones, billboards, and even bathrooms that now where a friend once was, was a walking, breathing advertisement. Didn't the word friendship mean not having to worry about being sold? Was living your dream worth asking your friends to pay for it?

I tried to explain this to her in a more subtle way but she was a believer...of a doctrine for a company that has no name. She attacked me..saying she was didn't like excuses, that I needed to get over a past she did not understand, that she was just trying to help me. She even said I was sharp and bright and she always told people I would successful in my own way which I found odd because she was getting mad at me for not being successful in her way.

Letting things rest for a bit the next day I wrote her a long email where I pointed out the problems I had. That legit companies have a website. That if the business plan was built around social connections it should at least offer an exportable blogger widget and an application to host your store in Facebook or Myspace which are mimic real world social networks. I told her that they should allow for CSS/HTML custom design controls and the ability to add a real unique URL and not a forwarded one which cannot have a search hit description.

At this point she responded saying she would never sponsor me or have me work for her...which I joked about once if they ever got a decent website but didn't really mean. She told me it annoyed her how I saw the flaws in things.

This made me sad because only by seeing the flaws in things can we seek to get better. That the company she was working for could do things so much better. Something as simple as linking in friends connect with paypal would reduce the payment process down to a username and password twice. You could even link in amazon dev pay which would make for 1 click shopping with your amazon addresses there, a single click away. Every great invention is built because someone saw the flaw and sought to fix it. She said that people are successful so they don't have to do better...which begs the question why is Yahoo not bigger than google or why do we not use beta? Those who don't seek to improve eventually will fail which this company would if I ever had the money to spend making a far superior website and competing against them.

I was annoying because I wanted a website my mother could use, because I was tired of having her come to me asking me to order her stuff online.

Not that Ariel would hear me as this nameless company had a true believer. Nameless until now because I will name them and call them Googolians. Those who work in non-transparent ways. Not google silly...the name was spoken 1000's of years ago in Gebula S by the Ancients. It was chosen because googol means 10^100 and Googolians the devourer of planets do not age. They remain nameless...controlling the world through corporate cults like this.

So today I fear I will say goodbye to someone that perhaps could of been a friend. I hope you will support her if you are to meet her...I can't...she has hurt me deeply...and it will cost her because had she asked I would of linked to her site...I would of told people of this girl...but now she is lost to me... part of those who I seek to defeat...

Am I afraid she will read these posts?

It is funny as I share my heart with the world because I am afraid to share it with the girl...I am left wondering if she would read my blog. In this I am lucky...for most people they have just a couple of websites they visit..mostly built around some need or social connection. Even luckier we are so desensitized to website spam that we often glaze over.

It does scare me though...that to see inside a man...see the inner turmoil and not understand that this is what most of us feel, the complicated interpretation of what we feel and how we must act. At least I think it is normal...only I talk about it more than most I suppose because the workings of the heart are such a mystery to me.

I link she would understand so it doesn't scare me much, not as much as the fear she will read my words and think oh no he is falling in love with me...which is not the case...I only admit I think I could love her...for the way she seems to hold the world in her eyes.

The problem is we have been indoctrinated to act and talk without emotion. Passion has been shunned from our world and society as a bad thing because passion is harder to control and manipulate. Love in our world has become more logical. So most people will look at my words and when relating them to their lives will interpret them wrong.

They do not understand that my heart is like a wild raging fire that burns hotter than the rest. That I will feel things so much deeper than most and hurt more deeply.

The very fact I have suffered from depression will make me crazy to most as too many of us are indoctrinated media controlled clones.

But the truth is I can't control what she thinks as she reads these words. This is who I am and to pretend otherwise would be to lie to her. This I will not do...not with her...my dreams for her are bigger and deeper...I would not have her love me for who I pretend to be but for who I am.

As I will confess my sins in this blog to you I have already confessed them to her. I did it in the beginning so she could make the choice. I don't hide from my past or who I was...it has made me who I am to become. Would it be better to pretend to be someone else, have her love you and then give her the hard truth...

Strange yes...looking back..meeting a girl and then telling her right off the bat the things in your life you are not proud of...but I guess strange works for me because I have no idea how not to be strange.

trying to do the right thing...

I had to click less on my feed next to her name because I find it hard to watch her live her life in a way. The selfish little boy inside screams for her attention to fall on me...for her to use that time to write to me...but I don't listen.. I won't let that boy cause me to treat this girl poorly or unfair. To change even a single things about her would be to change what enchants me but a child sees the world through its eyes and only its eyes. My child is screaming to be loved, for attention which I guess is fine but its wildness always ends up hurting others...and her I will never hurt. Not that I don't understand. The desire to write to her, share my thoughts, my dreams...is so great.. I must resist this urge with all my strength, I must build a brick wall around this boy so he stays locked away, unable to destroy this dream and I am certain she is only a dream. Because in dreams they never talk back and ... there is the rub I suppose. The reality I seem to have forgotten.

Trust is built on the delicate give and take back and forth. A dance where one truth is shared for another until you stand naked before each other completely open.

I am stuck on the logic that if she can give her eyes to so many...and I am just a small piece of that in the circular of many then I failed to impress because when you meet someone truly interesting. Someone who enchants you, they run through you mind in the most wild of dreams. You seek to learn more about them, you crave their attention more than others because even a word, a sentence will send you off into some wonderful bliss and she may be that to me but I am not that to her...

So like a child who has touched a hot stove you retreat. In the past my pain would become a weapon to hurt her but now I would rip out my heart and never love again before I did such a thing with her. I can handle pain.. It worries me little.. Happiness is harder for me.

It is the curse of being me... the girls that win my eye are the butterflies. The ones who dance through life on there own terms, who you can hold for a moment but never longer...

I am an gebadia@gebalove.com and nothing more. A boy that opens his heart in simple emails and nothing more. I have no frame, no body, am just words and it is not enough...with her I want more...I want her to see me, want me, love me...

But that is ok..I want many things in this life..right now a coffee would be nice..which I will get but her..well with her I will wait. I will build this wall around the 13teen year old boy, to prevent the trashing that is inside from causing me to say something I would regret. I say a prayer and say good bye to the idea of love happening in a 2 hour hollywood movie. I will be patient and let her miss me, let her come to me...and if she comes...if she writes when I do not...if she asks questions, inquires about me beyond the story in the words I give her as the @ and wants to know about the man, about who I want to be, then I will go to Italy and win her heart.

Even if I don't have the confidence to believe she will miss me...it is what I must do.

And if she doesn't...if I fade away into email oblivion, a person you knew for awhile and then simply forgot.. I will cry for awhile...I will be sad but then I will get up and live..having failed again to win the heart of a girl I know I could love...but it will be ok because I never hurt her and that is all that matters...

they must be just be a dream

I am two people...

Please forgive me I often revert from one person to another. Sometimes I am the boy who at 13 had his innocents taken, who is still full of doubt and insecurity, who can't imagine someone wanting something he hates so much. At other times I am the man I want to be. A poet, a dreamer..someone who would not distance stop him from finding out about a girl who takes his breath away.

Today I am the boy unsure if she fancies me or if in this lonliness I have imagined she might care for me even though she rarely finds time write. It is hard for me to understand that she is busy living life when I am busy not living life. My days are spent at work when I manage the courage to leave my house and when I come home I end up sitting alone at my desk in my mother's basement suite hacking away on a computer. I tell people this is because I am trying to build a Facebook application which is kind of true...but it is mostly because I don't have anywhere else to go. Depression and learning about relationships from a TV screen created an uneven pattern which cost me almost every human connection I ever had. I have a few people I call friends but if I were to ever get married I wouldn't have any best man. I will never be able to trust men.

The reasonable part of me knows that any person trying to become a lawyer, a singer, learning to play instruments and living in Europe where art was born wouldn't have much time for the cold, dull glare of a computer screen. But fear which is the result of insecurity and doubt does not allow me to be reasonable. You become afraid she simply feels sorry for you, tollerating your email and occasionally when she has time..she will respond. Your fear causes you to write too much and thus instead of being mysterious and romantic you end up being pushy and ovrwhelming never giving the girl time to miss you... You become like a mutt always there begging for scraps...

So with each email you send or message where you try to write the most beautiful words..you swear this will be the last and you will wait for her to write...but it is never the last as your heart is like a raging river of emotion...so lonely for human connection you become desperate and uneven that words leap from your heart onto the page..alone they might be beautiful but with the other email you sent earlier that day without waiting for a response the beauty becomes lost and you are like Polonius hiding gems in a sea of clutter.

The sane part of you, the one not ruled by your heart watches in horror, unable to match the sheer power of a broken heart...and it is then you realize that at 13 you broke in a way in that cannot be fixed and love, the one thing you desire most in this world will always be something to dream of, but never attained.

Still there is hope, always hope that someday that boy will leave his prison and grow into the man he was ment to be. There is hope that somehow she will see beneath the years of garbage. That somehow that boy will break through the rusted coffin he lives in and crawl through the mud that has been his life and find a way to truly live.

People will ask me if the stories I tell in Gebalove are real. The name is different to protect those I talk about but the stories are real. It is a way for me to give my madness, my pain, my joy to the world..and just maybe...I will find a way to get on a plane..meet this girl for coffee..kiss her passionately and maybe in that moment and just that moment I might know what happiness feels like...

The girl in my Facebook feed

Have you ever met anyone who can enchant you with words? Who when you see her in just a picture or just some silly post in your Facebook feed your heart stops and you have to remind it to beat again. Who you awake each morning hoping to see her name in your inbox because each day she writes is better than a day she does not.

Have you ever met a girl who just by reading her words describing her dreams makes you want to be better? That if life were to give you a chance to taste her lips, you wouldn't want past issues and insecurities get in the way. That even though the odds are slim it would ever come to be that you must prepare yourself for the chance it could happen, because you know a girl like this comes along maybe twice in a life time.

We are cynical to this online world. This idea that we may stumble across someone that could be some star crossed lover through some impassionate, cold computer screen never feels right. But if these social sites are to mimic real social patterns then surely love, or the quest for love would have some place in it.

Not that I hope to find love online. Some girls you would never ask for love through a computer screen. Some girls you would go broke to fly across the world to have hot chocolate with just because you didn't want real emotions and real feelings to begin on a computer screen...

Some girls you would stand before the world and say help...my paypal link is my hat and I have to get to Europe to find out about a girl. I must look her in the eyes and taste her sweet lips to know if the volt of electricity I feel when I see her face in my feed is real.

I have no choice when it comes to her....I must know if it is real or am I just so lonely I imagine it...

The perils of meeting a girl online...

Do you know how nerve wracking it is meeting someone in person for the first time? This is actually something I have a lot of experience because of my job. I usually spend a great deal of time talking to clients before we meet and so it is always interesting to see what they look like.

With girls... it is always different. I have to try to find some way to match my clothes or even find clothes which would be somewhat fashionable because you don't want a girl to know that you have 0 fashion sense. If the girl is European forget about it!! We are like slobs here in North America.

Then when you meet you must struggle past the nerves, struggle to figure out how the heck you are suppose to act. There is this huge voice where you want to impress the girl, make her laugh and ultimately you end up saying something stupid that wins a puzzled look.

If you manage to get through the awkward conversation and find a moments comfort you then seek to make some sort of body contact. Do you hold her hand... do you find a moment where you grab her and kiss the girl..what if she says no which would make the time you have together awkward at best because if you flew to see her it is not because you wanted just friendship.

If the kiss goes well...where are you to stay...does she have her own place or shall she share your hotel room. Of course you must offer to sleep on the floor while hoping she lets you share her bed and not even in a sexual way although you hope as a guy...but still it is asking a lot to share a hotel room. People go to the bathroom in hotel rooms and that is simply not a first date thing. that is like a 100th date thing.

Most of all I think you hope that it is not forced...that whatever happens is real...and then as always you must say goodbye...she must leave as you must and go back to some reality..changed by meeting her. You muse fight the urge to ask her for promises which really are just words that mean anything. You must poor water on the embers so you can get her out of your mind and focus on what is in front of you

I didn't even mention the food part which of course is important. You have to be careful what you eat because the last thing you want to do is end up on the shitter all night...

the event that shaped my life....

Strangness of lonliness in a digital age

I often find myself staring at my gmail, or facebook feed hoping for a simple email or message towards me. It has become the only human connection I have these days. It seems my life has had to catastrophic events for me which have isolated me from the world I have always want to be a part of.

Technology, the internet it gives me this fake, false intimacy of human emotion which barely sustains me. I settle for these partial relationships of sex to facilitate the need in my soul to be loved.

Each day is a struggle as I battle addiction to ease the loneliness which echoes from a chasm that I fear it will never be filled and the desire to not have that chasm inside causes me to have this almost desperate aura about me pushing those who might love me away.

I have to try to not be me. find someway not to be who my instinct's tell me to be.

I gave a stolen teddy bear to a girl on valentines day..

Becoming the crazy people see

I called her fat...

Gebalove...my battle with love