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 hand writing did the trick for me, writing on a computer didn’t feel that personal. However, as I was opening myself up to life more and more, I felt 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 more exhilarating. It came closer to matching the speed of the words running around naked throughout me, 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 somewhere unexpectedly, rhyming feels like music, it’s a kind of rhythm that’s genuine. It’s the atmosphere and, boom, the party begins. It’s the piano that I’m playing on. Handwriting is slow dancing 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, si.

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. And 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 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 when it becomes 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. Sexy. Funnily enough, the truer to yourself you become, the more people that you thought were close to you 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. First again. An exciting rollercoaster, obviously. 

One as such that comes to mind made me laugh uncontrollably and the guys sitting on my left and right swear in despair. I thought they were kidding, but when I turned my head to see their faces, as the train was riding up, along with its cracking sound 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 our mutual friend we were vacationing in Barcelona with. 

The hands in the air and the whole vavavoom of the first flight. First. 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, though. And so is the journey to it. Different every time and different for each and every one of us. It might take a lot of hard work, but then learning to sit back might be a thing, too. Relax and enjoy. Be the most you you can be and, slowly but surely, embrace this high energy that feels so natural you completely trust it and you find the sun being awesome everyday and, hence, want it. Wink at it, yes. This is one thought. Growing up, here comes another one, I thought that everyone was, of course, paying attention to everything as best as they could. Pointing at the spark. Wanting to be happy.

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 – is happy to see happy. And – wait, wait – would do weird stuff and backfire out of goodness knows where and we all know why when the idea of pure love alone arises on one’s face. Imagine on two faces at once. When stuff needs to happen, stuff happens. Deep. You know why, why, you know why, why, because we like to do it, we like to do it, we like to do it nice and rough. Each and every one’s soul journey is unique. But what I learned, over and over again, is that I can’t be played. People who play me play themselves, said Prince. You are made stronger by the things that hurt you the most. It’s when we 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 goes twice, 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 said I would sit down and 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, wrote I in the description of my first book. Oh-oh.

People that love you 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 and don’t know what it is, either, but are not happy with the glow. That doesn’t make sense, I know. They even try to make you feel bad about it, try their best to tone you down, but then you see them mimicking it. Fortunately, you’re not confused by it anymore and put the poker face on. You choose to be happy, not take it personally. They might even want to start asking themselves the big questions, too, who knows, and, hence, get happy 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. But, then, a moment comes when you say to yourself hmm, that doesn’t feel right, it’s the intimate confessions you make to yourself that lead to an entire decisionmaking process. You might question it a lot, your heart wants to give the people you care about chance after chance, but it is later on that you understand your heart has been trying to reach out to you the 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 – it just didn’t feel right – and trying, for years afterwards, to untangle myself from the web of ideals I constructed for and got trapped in myself, mom told me, one day, you just made him feel good all the time. So simple, yet so true. The truth is always simple. I thought it’s what relationships are supposed to feel like, good all the time, not for a second truly did I think about my pure happiness. It’s part of the journey, so that’s cool, pfew. A relationship can look perfect on the outside. To you, that’s the funny part. I laugh as I’m writing this in the middle of nature. Another time around. I’m almost naked, it’s that extra inch that’s not touched by the sun. Or is it? Similar to that extra inch that might have never been touched for real, for real by anyone. You included. Until now. Fireworks. Pause, pause, pause.

And we haven’t even touched the femininity as a thing, yet. 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 know what femininity is. For real, for real. When it threatens both the masculine and the feminine around you, within the love relationships, within the friendships, you might make the honest mistake to shove it down as hard as you can. It makes you feel even more of the alien you already felt that you were. But when femininity feels as good as freedom does – it’s connected to sexuality, so of course it does – it’ll find a way to make you aware. One. And two, the more you shoved it down, the more that its roots miraculously expanded beneath the surface. Just like your capacity for pure love did. Fireworks. And then, one day, your inner world matches your outer world. It clicks. Explodes. Like fireworks do. Like fire works.

Put the ambition in the mix and get ready to thrust from the environment that doesn’t really want to understand how it works.

Life is happening in every moment, it’s an eagerness to meet each day that’s seductive to me. I write stuff, have an idea of where something might go, but in the meantime, life is happening and it all intertwines and, yup, the rollercoaster ride has just entered our vibe. In a flow, it’s original, it’s ever evolving and it’s growing, essentially. Growing into something you couldn’t have imagined, but maybe you did imagine it. A little bit. Then, destiny comes in and swooshes you into 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 with your brother on the phone while walking, walking, walking and then you sit on the grass. You don’t have a blanket, but you’re in one of your favourite pairs of light 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 yellow towel thingy you fell in love with at first sight. They’re all here with you to collect the moments in time. I go through these all on the phone. My brother laughs, I get him, he gets me. Suddenly, you’re switching gears like there’s no tomorrow, you’re the driver of your own train, while absorbing the 360 around you. People walking, having picnics or not, kids playing. A very 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 you both enjoy, in the street, 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 happened 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 that that! 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. And tell everyone I meet, later in the yet another lovely evening to remember, about it. About the strong emotion in the park and it’s funny how Superman came to mind. We all have a laugh that seems like a sequence in 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. Put yourself first. Yup, one more rollercoaster ride. I think this is what I’ve always been meaning with these rollercoasters. It’s life. And then, the fireworks come in. From the outer world. Which comes from the inner world. So good luck with that, world!

But how can anyone that is not truly interested in their true happiness be interested in yours? And you give them power because you believe they are, but when you see that they aren’t, spoof, they don’t have any power over you anymore, success!

When you love someone, you love them for who they are in this precise moment. Good and bad. When my brother was a child, he would always ask mom, when watching a movie, if someone was good or bad. That was his only barometer. 

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. 

Were you a believer in everyone’s best everything, fell for it only to figure out you had to put your own man’s pants on only to embrace femininity like never before? It’s a sort of fierceness that comes together with it, a power from within meanders and gets you closer to yourself than ever and farthest away from the coward that you know what did or didn’t or couldn’t get a bee out of the bathroom, but you could. There were times when you thought you couldn’t, but hey, you just did. The bee safe out of the bathroom and him out of your bedroom. Consider to start seeing people for what they are, what they show, what they say, because everything is everything. Stay away from toxic people, basically.

Others will trip over your love thinking they’re not enough and vice-versa, everyone 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, because hey! It sounds electrifying because it is. I always knew I wouldn’t settle. Waiting is a thrill only when you feel at ease. Peace. 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.

Wolves don’t lose sleep over the opinion of sheep. Neither do lions. Do you? The electricity that comes with the lovers choosing each other makes my heart skip a beat, yes, but feels like could light up the entire world, too.

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 for you and for the entire world. But you love the sheep, too, so, at times, you might’ve fallen for their declaration of love and passion. Friendship, for sure. But they knew they didn’t have the gut. You believed they did, though. Hoped, maybe. You love all the animals. But you can’t hide the animal in you anymore. Where are the people stepping up for you? You’ve always, without a question or a doubt, stepped up for them. The love was unconditional, without a question or a doubt, too. It’s just not a turn on anymore. And that’s just fine, each and every one’s soul journey is unique. When people step up, it’s sexy. To me. It becomes destiny. Fun! 

Or when they open your eyes, inspire you to do better, be better and make you a better person. That’s a great turn on. Love.

My fingers just won’t stop until I type that it was me, in fact, that knew they didn’t have what it takes. For me. They knew or they didn’t, but they, for sure, didn’t let me know. Hoped it will only take me more. Who knows, maybe I was going to give in and care for them more. But is that true love? Of course not, so that’s a big turn off. Huge. The biggest of them all. I know that if I’m not turned on, baby, nothing is on. This resembles tricking my own soul and promiscuity has never been my thing. Faking for the sake of someone else’s peace? First, what is that, Cristina? Definitely not Cristina. Secondly, that’s not peace for real, for real. Not just not peace is what I mean. It’s someone else’s feast of your energy. You have a lot, you know that, so you think Aw. They had your permission. But no more. It makes sense, it was you who had to see yourself for real, for real. And that’s the fabulous news of today. It’s your gut’s turn. 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. The other half. The vavavoom.

A rollercoaster car, train. A train of thought. Plane. 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. Funnily enough, the playlist on my phone is shuffling like there’s no tomorrow through the speaker in the bedroom I’m writing this from. It’s called Loco Amor turned Rockets & Waterfalls as we speak. It’s another evening in Summer, the soft white curtain is tripping over every single song on it. As do I. You’re in the zone, you’re in this supernatural madness. It’s the beat of the wind. They’re all different songs, but they’re my style. I’ve been adding them to the playlist whenever, wherever I felt like oh yeah. It’s for the first time in a very long time that I’m letting it play. First again.

Told you the heart keeps on sending you signals.

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

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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