in a study by manchester university it was found that men spend an average of 6.7 seconds staring at the lips of a woman wearing pink lipstick and 7.3 seconds staring at the lips of a woman wearing red lipstick.

men get to be a mixture of the charming mannerisms of the women they have known.

f. scott fitzgerald.

the gym.

metal plates clunk against each other. more, heavier, push. men speak in gruff voices. gruff topics. this is a place for men. but, some women come here, into a place saturated with testosterone. sweat. a fixed energy.

most people say hello, how are you? a usual greeting, no care for the answer. others just smile. some say nothing. what’s so hard about hello?

string singlets hang off bodies built for battle. but, there are no physical battles inside this place. just: fitter, stronger, leaner.

push, pull, grunt. veins protruding, looking to burst. all in an attempt to grow, become better. beat something – that something pushing them toward an edge they didn’t know existed. an edge they won’t know until they cross it – which, for the most part, they never will.

today, the gym smells like garlic. rancid garlic mixed with sweat, escaping, squeezing itself out through tiny pores. leaving it’s stale stench in the air. it’s busy tonight. men, women, protein, creatine. tattooed, red head, african, european, bearded. health/fitness/size/muscle – the common thread.

tingle, pringle, shingle…

boys/men. call them what you like, they all mean the same thing. troubled times. 95% of the conversations i have with my girlfriends are in one way or another connected to a problem in relation to that theme. they consume, disrupt, suffocate our lives and (unknowingly) leave us beaten and bloodied while doing so.

just who do they think they are? at my ripe, young age, i have no worries about not being attached to one of these all-consuming specimen. why is there any reason to complicate a life that is so perfectly uncomplicated? there is no point in forcing, squeezing, scheduling into your life someone who will ultimately only create less of an ability for ease and freedom. (that said, i appreciate the nature of fate and fully support all those serendipitous moments which come along now and then to remind us of the ways of the sneaky universe.) yet so many people decide to rush into relationships with their eyes closed for fear of “running out of time”.

those women who place so much of an emphasis on their time constraints in bearing a child are dependent leeches who need to understand that your choice in having a relationship should not be bound by age. biology tells me i have until 40, 45 tops before i start losing my green card on the baby clock. but the baby clock is ticking with, or without a man, and if that is my only reason to prematurely induce a relationship then i am more than happy to find other means of creating my spawn. there is too much technology, too many scientific discoveries, too many other options, to chance love and contentedness in return for securing a man purely as an amenity more primitively useful in facilitating the conception of a child.

i have no problem with being single and will be for my entire life if i choose to do so. i would rather that than something forced and contrived where my true happiness hangs in the balance. if children is what i want, i can do it on my own. 

there is no reason other than love to be in a relationship. and there is no reason to rush into one because your girlfriends are, you get lonely, have “needs” to be met or want to have children before it’s too late. these excuses are all fixable without men. yes, even children. life’s too short to be wasted on wasteful things.