What women want

The female of the species is believed to be more deadly than the male. And there is some truth to this, because most women simply don’t know what they want. We think we want it all, or some of it: eternal love, the great career, the passionate romance, a close circle of friends like the Ya Ya sisters, the perfect body. Once we have it, we discard it. For some reason it’s not enough.

Our needs never get satiated. Many of them are irrational and illogical, but we roam the cityscape hunting for that elusive Holy Grail. Some give up and draw consolation from mediocrity, from the mundane. Others seek the highs of instant gratification. But the problem with this is that it is instant, it is transient. It will fade into obscurity and then you have to begin your search anew for the next new high.

Find me a happy and satisfied woman, and I’ll break the carefully nurtured sham that society has inflicted on her. Despair, desire and delirium are always lurking in the background. My greatest fear is that this is as good as it will ever get. In desperation, I search for the next adrenaline rush, sifting through the remnants of my broken dreams.

I am loved, but it’s not enough. I have a great body, but my tummy isn’t flat enough. I’ve read a bit, but there’s so much more to learn. My job gives me plenty of freedom, but it fails to satisfy. Mood altering drugs simply don’t cut it for me anymore. I draw no comfort from my memories which are intangible reminders of the past. So I walk alone looking for the next big high. What if I don’t find it? Or worse still, what if I find it just to discover in the cold light of day that it’s just not enough. What then?