WOMEN: Life Is Unpleasant Without Them

WOMEN: Life Is Unpleasant Without Them


Life with her is fine, just perfectly fine. She loves flowers, she loves dogs, a hamburger dinner in an Angus Restaurant and Nizar Qabbani.

She would sit and listen to me talk as if I am some kind of god and it’s genuine.

I know all women are nuts. It’s hard to understand them. But we can’t live without them. We missed them when they’re gone. Life is unpleasant without them. You know the feeling when you come home in a dark house, no food and no noise, it’s nothing. We feel empty. It’s like a hollow shell left by some decayed sea creatures. We feel the emptiness and aloneness on a frozen planet that’s isolated on a barren rock in the middle of glittering galaxy.

Life, without them, is never fixed to the heart of universe by slender silken strings of truth that holds back from the black holes of fear and uncertainty, despair and aloneness.

Life, without them, would have run through time like slight, dissolving silvery arteries and capillaries.

Life, without them, would have interrupted infinity like several scary cracks of thunder and lightning during a dry and blazing summer days. Life isn’t full, less than complete and less than perfect. Some things are not certain.

That is why she is set in my life like an intricate tattoo in the heart of eternity.

She arranges the stars at night, the planet and asteroids for my convenience. She cherishes me. She longs for me and holds on to me. She believes in me. She makes my day.

With her, life remains fixed in firm and perfect patterns, indelible and infinite, ancient and for always. Back and forward.

With her, there is love that comes in all shapes, sizes and temperaments.

She is a brew black coffee I used to smell when I wake up in the early morning while watching the dark horizon slowly turning into reds and oranges. The sweet kisses I used to feel when I go to bed at night.

She is the opalescent moon who kisses the dark night and a bridge of forever, arching above the sea.

Because of her, I have learned loving all simple things in the world even the wildest mushrooms at the country side and the scent of the earth after the rain.

With her, life is not falling apart. My soul is sopping with poetry. My heart is swelling with love and happiness. Things are all right somewhere in the vast lingering landscape of life.



Bea Pilotin - Writer

A woman who is passionate about coherent words.View Author posts