Your Ride Or Die

June 26, 2023

Is this my cue to write with an actual pen on an actual piece of paper? Back in school, it felt like handwriting did the trick for me, writing on a computer didn’t feel that personal. However, as I was opening up to life, day by day, year after year, I started to feel the need for speed. A.k.a. a game I used to play, hm, as a kid, with my brother. The speed of typing started to feel exhilarating. It came close to matching the speed of the words running around naked through my head and waiting for me to, playfully, of course, no pressure, put them in plain view, for everyone to see, and enjoy the ride. No pressure, no diamonds.

Sometimes, it really does feel like playing. I take words from there to here, I cut entire phrases to paste them unexpectedly somewhere, rhyming feels like music, it’s the kind of rhythm that feels genuine. It’s the atmosphere and, boom, the party is on. It’s the piano that I’m playing on. Handwriting is slow dancing, to me, and today is the day I might switch to it and see. I’m in the middle of nature. For the moment, there’s no electricity. Can’t mess with the battery of any device in the house, but knowing myself, I just might, I’m going to be on this macbook until it runs out of it. Fun. Let’s see. See, see, .

Seeing someone you love happy is one of the best feelings out there, yes, but to me, seeing someone I love happy is, also, one of the most empowering feelings out there. In here. It gives me wings to fly. It puts a smile on my face without realising. But real eyesing. It makes me look at the sun and wink. 

It’s love. It’s not until you choose your pure happiness, though, that you start to love yourself, choose yourself for real, for real. You for real, for real, the real you, your values, wishes, principles, dreams, your integrity, your truth. You love clarity, it only makes sense. Choosing your truth is loyalty to yourself first. It’s so delicate it sparkles. Loyalty feels like standing up for yourself. You love life and are in awe of the idea of it alone, in the first place. Yourself first in the first place. Loyal to yourself, but, ooh, then, when you’re loyal to someone you love and they’re loyal to you, for the same reason, which is, in fact, no reason, wink, wink, the superpower songs are written about shines through. Loyalty is sexy, I mean it is to me, the sexy kind of loyalty. What? You know what. When it’s the loyalty that comes from your heart, its desire alone tickles your stomach. It’s delicious. Trusting completely and letting go, mm… Never have I ever faked an orgasm in my life.

It’s only you who’s allowing something you don’t like the company of to be in your company, so what are you allowing in today? Stylistically speaking. Being authentic is the key to your destiny. Style is all about authenticity. Interesting. True. And fun. Fun fact: the closer to you you choose to be, the more people that you thought were close to you, but were not, are getting out of your path.

I’ve always liked bonding for real, for real, and always have pursued it with such curiosity, and intensity, and passion, and devotion, that I’m sure it’s part of my destiny. To hop on and ride. Quite the drive. A rollercoaster for real, for real. I kept on telling my bestie, on the phone, a while ago, careful what you wish for. I, recently, told my bestie, on the phone, well, it’s what you wished for. She said yup, I know, I know and look at me now. I’ve kept on loving a proper rollercoaster for as long as I’ve known myself. I knew I loved a rollercoaster at the first ride. An exciting one, obviously. 

One as such that comes to mind made me laugh uncontrollably, made the guys sitting on my left and right swear in despair. I thought they were kidding, at first, but when I turned my head to see their faces, as the train was riding up, along with its cracking sound pushing through our backbones, hearing them speaking their truth only made me laugh harder. One of them was my then very longtime boyfriend, the other one was a mutual friend we were vacationing in Barcelona with. 

The hands in the air and the whole vavavoom of the first flight, oh! This is your destiny, baby, you’re meant to fly, and off to everything in the amusement park I went pointing at, afterwards, of course.

I assumed everyone loved riding high. That it came and felt naturally to everyone. I know, I know, chillax. High energy is everyone’s birth right, just saying. The journey to it is different every time and different for each and every one of us. It might take a lot of hard work and learning to sit back and relax is part of it. Relax and enjoy. Be the most you you can be and, slowly but surely, embrace this high energy that feels so natural that you completely trust it. The ride. You find the sun being awesome every day, your eyes can’t get enough of it, the sun can’t get enough of you, it seems, you want it. Wink at it, yes. Growing up, I thought that everyone was, of course, paying attention to everything as best as they could. Pointing at the spark. That everyone wanted to be happy. No other option would even cross my mind.

I knew I just liked You’re Making Me High from the moment I bought for myself, at eleven years old, the Secrets cassette.

It was weird to realise, weirder and weirder with every time, that not everyone – you thought was close to you, but you see, it’s feeling the feelings, not thinking the feelings, so, were not – is happy to see happy. I know. And – wait, wait – try to negatively, somehow, intervene when the idea of pure love alone arises on one’s face. Imagine when the idea of pure love alone arises on two faces, at once. The light shines the path. What I, also, learned, over and over again, is that I can’t be played. People who play me play themselves, said Prince. Is that you are made stronger by the things that hurt you the most and you start to play Carmageddon. Kidding, kidding. Drama that was never yours, to begin with, starts to dissipate and different kind of journeys start to dance with yours. Fireworks.

Careful what you wish for x2, because here I am, slow dancing in my mind. In broad daylight. It’s raining outside. It’s summer and few things come close to a thunderstorm in the middle of nature. Few things my ass, I know, but you know what I mean x2. It’s the rain musicians are writing about, it’s the birds that are chirping even when there’s no electricity, but guess what, we’re only so lucky, electricity always comes back. Powerful. Empowering. And we only love it more. I sat down with the intention to handwrite, I even lit up candles, but was in way too much awe not to stare at nature. Hear it. Absorb. 

The moments of silence we alternate with loud music… Mystery would’ve rhymed better, but who can put up with loud music? Mystery can. Life is about living it just as much as it is about writing about it. Music is an universal language and I know style has the power to be one, too, I wrote in the description of my first book. Oh-oh.

People that love you, for real, for real, sense there’s something about you and they love it, too, because they can see it in you, they don’t even have to know why, they know they will, one day, they can already see, in your eyes, that you know and that’s enough for them to be happy for you, for them, and you feel the love, it’s a buzz you adore. The buzz of an evening in summer.

And, then, there are those who sense it, don’t know what it is, but are not happy with the glow, to say the least. That doesn’t make sense, I know. They even try to make you feel bad about it, try their best to tone you down and try their best to mimic you. Funny. Fortunately, you’re not confused by it anymore and you put the poker face on. You choose to be happy, not take it personally. They might start asking themselves the big questions, too, who knows, and, hence, get happy, hallelujah, because this is what the glow is all about. It’s invisible just like guess what is. Yup! It, too, feels like part of your role here. And so does hmm, that doesn’t feel right. The intimate confessions you make to yourself lead to an entire decision making process. You might question it a lot, at first, your heart wants to give the people you care about chance after chance, but you learn to understand that your heart has been trying to reach out to you, in fact, this whole time.

And it only makes sense. Again. You haven’t been entirely true to yourself. After doing my best to break up with another longtime boyfriend – and untangle myself from the web of ideals I don’t even know how I got into, I mean I know, but now I also know that it was an illusion made to get trapped in – mom told me, one day, you just made him feel good all the time. So simple, yet so true. The truth is always simple. Meet people where they’re at, yes, but I thought that relationships are supposed to feel good all the time, with easy and hard, regardless. However, there I was, not for a second thinking about my pure happiness. It’s part of the journey, so that’s cool, whew. A relationship can look perfect on the outside. It can almost make you think that it is perfect. It’s the illusion. It’s the trap. All part of the journey, too, whew x2. But then, you find it hilarious. I’m laughing as I’m writing this, almost naked, in the middle of nature, another time around. It’s the extra inch that is, usually, not touched by the sun – or is it? – that’s dressed. Dressed up. Reminds me of the extra inch that might have never been touched, for real, for real, by anyone. Not even you. Until now. Fireworks. Pause, pause, pause.

Femininity… Have we taken it for granted or what? When you feel it threatens the person you’re with, ooh, you almost pretend like you don’t even know what femininity is. When it threatens both the masculine and the feminine around you, within the love relationships, within the friendships, you might make the honest mistake of shoving it down, as hard as you can, and force yourself to forget all about it. Jesus. It’s the confirmation you needed, you are the alien you’d already felt that you were. Congratulations. See ya! But femininity feels as good as freedom does, so it always finds a way to make you aware. And come back as a flower. One. And two, the more that you shoved it down, the more that it, miraculously, expanded its roots underneath your skin. Oh. Just like your capacity for pure love did. And then, one day, your inner world matches your outer world. It clicks. Explodes. Like fireworks do. Like fire works. Put ambition in the mix and get ready to thrust your way through the environment that doesn’t want to understand how it all works, to begin with.

Life is happening in every moment, it’s an eagerness to meet each day that’s seductive to me. When I’m writing, I have an idea of where something might go, but life is happening, in the meantime, and it all intertwines, all of a sudden. The rollercoaster ride has just entered our vibe. In a flow. It’s original and it’s ever evolving, essentially. Growing into something you couldn’t have imagined, but maybe you did imagine it. A little bit. Destiny has just unlocked the most authentic you. You trust your journey and are a fan of surprises, for sure. Concerts riding. A surfboard. 

You’re cool like the Coca-Cola you’re talking about, on the phone, with your brother, while walking, walking, walking. You sit on the grass. You don’t have a blanket, but you’re in your soft, but crisp, but soft corduroy dark blue flares, it’s the third time you’re wearing the new pair or purple sparkling sneakers that have for skateboard use only written on them, but hey – I thought, and the perfect pastel yellow towel tank top thingy you fell in love with as soon as you saw it. They’re all here to collect the moments in time. We laugh, I get him, he gets me. Suddenly, you’re switching gears, like there’s no tomorrow, you’re the driver of your own series of connected cars that move on tracks, while absorbing the 360 around you. People walking, having picnics or not, kids playing. A funny dog comes and wants to taste the salad you got with your bestie from a place you both enjoy. You started to eat it with your bestie in another place, in the street, you both enjoy, but now it’s my brother that I’m finishing it with and we’re facetiming. It’s been a while since we talked so much – life, life, life – and it’s happening out of nowhere, perfect timing. We talk about everything from a trip to Venice, to ice cream or some kind of new (or not so new) food obsession, to purpose in life, friendships and love. There’s really no time for or point in bulls*it. As it isn’t ever. It’s like thatthat!

Swans doing their thing in Hyde Park, sun having a convo with the clouds and, gear after gear, there’s this emotion coming up, without asking anything, without giving a f*ck. I stop eating, ask for a pause in our discussion. Pause, pause, pause, pause again, thinking wtf, then I can do this, pause, pause, pause, but oh, I don’t give a f*ck anymore, either, and tears just come out like waterfalls, not a metaphor, I can almost sense their way from my heart, stomach, everywhere, and out into the world. Luckily, I have my sunglasses on, ha! My brother smiles, starts to laugh, he’s just as amazed as I am. In a funny way, it seems. The battery intervenes. Of the phone, this time. I stand up and off of the ground I let myself fly. The Superman story Jerry Seinfeld tells crosses my mind. I laugh.

It all leads to yet another lovely evening to remember about. The emotion couldn’t stay in, it’s been invading my entire being, and here it is, without asking anything, without giving a f*ck, coming out into the world, so unapologetically. Again. In the form of a story now. It’s so real that it’s funny when I tell everyone at the dinner table all (almost all) about it. It completely disarms everyone, known and unknown to you, at the dinner table – it’s what, back at home, bestie and I come to see. In the moment, the dinner table just felt so alive. Felt like a great movie. It’s the unconditional love for life and the trust! There’s something here that resembles lust.

Living all your emotions is the s*it. Emotions are a natural and necessary part of life, but perception is key. In order to see things clearly, you’d better let go of resentment of any kind and let your joy point at whatever your joy wants to point at. I think this is what I’ve always been meaning with the rollercoaster thing. It’s life. And then, it’s the fireworks. From the outer world. That comes from the inner world. Good luck, world! Some will take your love for granted and your kindness for weakness, it’s the cowardliness in disguise. Mucho mistrust. Paying attention to everything you love is as important as paying attention to the wolf you feed. 

You believed in everyone’s best everything, you fell for it, but then remembered, again, to meet people where they’re at and figured out you had to fearlessly embrace your masculinity – now watch out, world – only to, guess what, embrace your femininity like never before. Ironic, but true. It’s the fearless love you’ve been dreaming about since you were a baby, after all. A power from within meanders and gets you closer than ever to you and farthest away from the coward that couldn’t get a bee (aw) out of the bathroom. But you could. There were times when you thought you couldn’t, too, but hey, you just did it. You took the bee, safely, out of the bathroom and him, irrevocably, out of your bedroom. You always saw people for who they were, beautiful and powerful, and you wanted to meet them there, but when people don’t want to see themselves for who they are, and hurt people instead, nonsense, exactly, you focus even more so on who you are and meet them where they are x3. See what acceptance implies and stay away from people who choose to be toxic, basically.

Was the bee trying to tell me something?

And then comes a time when someone trips over your love, thinking they’re not enough, when you trip over their love, thinking you’re not enough, it’s the twists and turns of the rollercoaster that got you here, but it’s, also, when you both meet courage. Sexiness. Cristina! A different kind of torture. A sexy one. Cristina! It’s when the universe starts to rearrange itself for you both, there’s nothing anyone can do about it anymore! It sounds electrifying because it is. Wolves don’t lose sleep over the opinion of sheep. Neither do lions. Do you? This time is about you having the gut. To choose to feed your soul. And, boom, the universe sends you a gift. That extra inch. Electricity (is back!). The other half. The vavavoom. Lovers choosing each other lights up the entire world.

Don’t try to be something for everyone, just be everything for someone is something I read and liked, written by Leandra Medine Cohen, in her early years of manrepeller.com.

Giving power to people who don’t know what real power is or what to do with it, especially when it’s related to you, is dangerous both for you and the entire world. They knew they didn’t have the gut, but they, for sure, didn’t want to let me know. And I know why. My fingers just won’t stop until I type that, in fact, I knew they didn’t have what it takes. For me. And they knew that, too. Now, that’s not the sensual kind of tension that I fancy and so, something just didn’t feel right. It’s only a question of time from there. You love all the animals, but you can’t hide the animal in you anymore. It’s a dance here, too. Hierarchy falls out when you have to beware of the wolves in sheep’s clothing, too. Sneaky is polar opposite to real. Is a turn off. I know that if I’m not turned on, baby, nothing is on. Sounds like stepping up or is it just me? This almost wants to be a poem. So, who is stepping up for you? You know who you have always stepped up for. All right, I am stepping up for me. It’s sexy. To me. Fun! And my power is back where it belongs? Home? With your turn on who opens your eyes back, inspires you to do better back, makes you want to be a better person back? Fantastic! Where you love dancing af? It’s you and me, baby, just you and me, as Barry White says in all the songs ever.

At first glance, a roller coaster is something like a passenger train. It consists of a series of connected cars that move on tracks. But unlike a passenger train, a roller coaster has no engine or power source of its own. For most of the ride, the train is moved by gravity and momentum, says howstuffworks.com. A train of thought. A plane. A rocket.

When I come home from trips, I tend to unpack a.s.a.p. and, sometimes, life feels just as such. You hop on, scream, put your hands up in the air, fly, sing, laugh, get off of the ride and on to the next. Day. Clean. Crisp. Clear. Man plans, God laughs and when we both enjoy a good laugh, it’s chemistry. I said something about slow dancing in my mind, back when I was in the cabin in the woods and it was raining. Music is what I missed the most. Life, life, life. Music is playing in the bedroom I’m writing this from. It’s another evening in summer, the soft white curtain is tripping over every single song on it and so do I. We’re in this supernatural madness. The rhythm belongs to the wind. The songs belong to the Loco Amor playlist that just turned to Rockets & Waterfalls. I’ve been adding them whenever I felt like oh yeah. It’s for the first time, in a very long time, that I’m letting it play.

It’s the heart that keeps on sending you signals.

Home. Where you and that special spirit are free and can sparklingly say, at once, we did it, baby!

P.S.: let’s not ever forget that Kill Bill, for instance, came out of handwriting. So.

Hey, this is Cristina Pavelescu wearing a music cassette sweater, decoding (life) style and writing from wherever, yet always living in OZ, a world I invite you into. To smile in front of our screens (and live one day), put any kind of questions, answer in writing (or imagination) and marvel at fashion which is, in fact, style.


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