YOU'RE NOT THAT HOT. A brief reflection

 So I wanted to post this on Insta to do some Vaguebooking, and according to psychologists, who know very well what they say, cause it's supported by research, it's an immature cry for attention, and that's precisely what my post is: immature, like everything I do (can't help it sorry) and also a cry for attention. But it's not actually to complain, rather to make you laugh your asses off, that's the kind of attention I want, cause after all the person this was originally addressed to can't read English lol, so it's quite an absurd way to Vaguebook? And yet it's got some important comedic potential so sharing here cause Insta doesn't allow me the SPACE I need to express myself grrrrr!!! And yet I think hey my blog is better, I can post more cringe pics strategically distributed so let's make something totally epic out of this haha.

So here it is, my sad attempts at Vaguebooking today, hope you enjoy and above all that you laugh and scream as usual at my natural unhingedness :D

Life has become super tough since I am so wildly sexy you can't imagine my people

SO, today it was an amazing day, and you know it was a magical one that happens only once in every four years so the energies are wild, and I accomplished all my work, and I’m fully healed having lost two sizes no less during the ordeal therefore totally recommend IBS as an extremely effective and cheap fitness treatment, and now I’m super bored listening to Dua Lipa at full volume at 3 am (airpods, we don’t want the neighbours to call the police) as if I was my own particular fuckn rave (which sort of I am), and I feel… I feel… I feel that I’m about to EXPLODE IN CRINGE INDISCRIMINATELY UPON THE WHOLE OF THE INTERNET, so be warned, here I come cause I’m grabbing the microphone now. Ehem!

(People start screaming, running for their lives, unfollowing, blocking, reporting, calling Anonymous for help, trying to shut down the Starlink satellites before I start speaking but no, my people, it’s too late, nothing can stop this now…).

—For everything that is Holy and Good Harry, please hurry up and shut that shit off now!! That wretched woman is just about to speak!!

—I'm just trying to figure out how to pass the security system!! I don't think I will make it on time man...

—OMFG this is over... we are doomed...

 
SO,

Around a week has passed since I posted my tomboy pics marking a before and an after in the History of Humanity. People en masse are still struggling to recover, and I’m aware of that and, for that, I apologise, I didn’t mean to be so harsh I still need to learn to control the extent of my powers. The question is that after that event, which was for me a total challenge, I feel super good with myself, I literally laugh all the time, life is super fun just because, the connections with my people now are stronger and purer and more authentic, I even connect much more deeply with the students and I feel I have a much sharper cognition, and I’ve made incredible new friends, amazing beyond measure, therefore I feel totally and completely happy and fulfilled with my life now.

I'm really sorry Five, it was the pics I posted. I didn't mean to, apologies my dude

 
BUT,

I am also losing friends, people I’ve known and who’ve known me for literally years? And they were connections I really, really appreciated, cherished and valued? And suddenly they went from speaking normally to me to not talking to me at all or texting me back in one-syllable words if any? And they happen to be women friends? And now I am, as we so accurately say in our beautiful Spanish language, hallucinating gherkins?

Yeap, basically like that

 

SO, well, if I do the math, it’s because of my tomboy pics or my silly gender fluid writings, cause there’s literally nothing else to provoke such a radical change, and I say to myself, ok, now they don’t see me anymore as their friend, they see me as a… stalker. A stalker that was stalkingly stalking them along all these years, always, always hiding deep inside of me some dark ulterior motives, and one day I am “normal”, then I post some tomboy pics, and it’s like I’ve been bitten by one of the demons in Evil Dead you know, and now I’m one of the infected, and they better lock me well down the basement while they scream in horror before I bite them too, which I will definitely try to do, with all the terrifying consequences implied.

Me texting them "Hey, good morning! How was your day?"

And I picture in my troubled mind how they see me now, and yes I can see it, I can see how they see me now… I am not me, I am not Maria, I have actually never been Maria, Maria was just a social construct, a cover, the sheep skin of a poor dead sheep covering the hungry wolf pretty much alive, and I just pretended to be a friendly person, but actually, it was all part of a scheme, and whenever I was alone far from everyone else’s eyesight, the real me emerged from me like a dense sombre cloud embracing me like an aura, and there I was, sitting in the dark of my room surrounded by the fleeting clouds of grey cigarette smoke gushing out of my afflicted lungs, with a thousand devils dancing in my pupil-dilated green eyes as I lurked through their profiles on Insta and liked their pics and commented on them and all this time I was just waiting for a chance, a false step, a drop of their guard… (I am literally SCREAMING ON TOP OF MY LUNGS in laughter as I am typing this).

Um I’m sorry to disappoint but nope. Please, let me make something clear now:

(Maria takes out a megaphone, activates it, inhales deeply filling her lungs to the max, and screams out loud to the openness of the whole Universe…).

YOU’RE NOT THAT HOT.

(And the echo repeats in the vastness of the multidimensional space, not that hot... not that hot... not that hot...).

Unless you are fuckn Dua Lipa, believe me you are safe. And if I were to meet Dua Lipa, I would probably just RUN, so I'm totally harmless (apart from pathetic)

Nah, you’re not that hot. And if I treat you like a sister, talk to you as if you are a sister, and show you the same affection as I would do to a sister, even if I make you the same presents I would make to a sister, particularly a LITTLE sister, believe me my dear, you’re a sister to me.

You’ve been sisterzoned since long sorry.

My good girl Eowyn got friendzoned by Aragorn and also sisterzoned by Arwen Evenstar, and yet life goes on

And assuming that gender fluid folk will automatically focus on you cause of being gender fluid and you having per se any of the two genders (lol), is quite conceited to be honest, as well as as senseless as assuming that because of being a cis hetero woman you literally will drool over all the men in the world, including, I don’t know, Donald Trump? Putin? The Dalai Lama? No, right? Well, exactly the same. Of course, there are men in the world we men and women alike would all do without exceptions me head first, like Keanu Reeves or Henry Cavill, and we all know that, but that’s another question and you know what I mean.

My man makes me super nervous, not ashamed to admit

So yeah you are safe around me and you can talk to me and you can be friends/sisters with me, even if I’m now a tomboy and openly gender fluid, and sleep soundly and safely at night, cause I'm not the lurker type believe me, and unless I start behaving like a shy, shaky and vulnerable golden retriever pupper around you, I’m not having feelings. And do not get mistaken, what I write may be super wild emotionally speaking (cause, after all, everything I’m writing is perfectly clean and legal? Not even physical?), cause that’s me self-healing and making love with myself and I feel safe this way cause I know I won’t call the police reporting myself for stalking myself and for inappropriate conduct against myself, at least by now I haven’t done so and let’s hope for the best in the future.

Literally me when I want some love (and some kibble)

 
So basically yeah, I apologise again for the disturbing, deeply violent, out-of-control wild animal magnetism that my body cells shed now like a curse, but honestly I can’t do anything about it so you’d have to take it as a natural thing. Legend says even young James Spader was capable of having some friendships who didn’t look at him as an object of desire, so I want to think there’s some hope left as regards my poor human frame. Cause, um, ehm, thinking about it, if I make you THAT nervous now you can’t even talk to me, maybe it’s on you? U-HUM!

Do tell them Obama my man

OK my good people as you can see this was all pure and raw comedy, with some little truths in it, and I wrote it with all my affection hoping that you’ve laughed your asses off, cause I’m fully embracing and giving full voice to my inner clown now. I can tell you that while writing this I’ve laughed so much my mum woke up and came to my room to scold me and she’s at the other side of a 100 meters house, and it’s amazing to have so much healthy fun just with a computer, a phone, the English language, a few harmless pics, and quite a lot of lack of abashment LOL.

Thank you, as usual, for being here. You save my life daily, you know it, and for that you’re deeply loved.

María Concepción Pomar Rosselló