Born In The Wrong Time

Summary

The article reflects on the contrast between modern relationships, characterized by superficiality and promiscuity, and the deep, genuine connections of the past, as exemplified by the author's grandparents' love story.

Abstract

The author shares a personal tale of their grandparents' swift courtship in 1955 Bulgaria, which led to a lifelong marriage, highlighting the authenticity and depth of their relationship. This narrative serves as a poignant counterpoint to the contemporary dating scene, which the author criticizes for its excessive focus on physicality, lack of meaningful connections, and societal decay reflected in pervasive promiscuity, materialism, and emotional detachment. The article laments the rarity of traditional acts of care and respect, suggesting that the true essence of relationships has been lost to the transient pleasures and external validations of modern life. It calls for a return to valuing personality, character, and the gradual development of connections, emphasizing that the only true possessions in life are moments and time, and that the soul outlives the physical shell.

Opinions

The author believes that modern relationships are too focused on the physical aspect and lack the depth and emotional connection that was present in past generations.
There is a critique of society's obsession with materialism and external validation, which is seen as a futile pursuit that ultimately leads to dissatisfaction.
The article suggests that the modern approach to relationships, including casual sex and polygamy, represents a societal regression and a form of self-destructive behavior.
The author yearns for a revival of traditional romantic gestures and the cultivation of personality and character over superficial attributes.
The author posits that the essence of life lies in the moments and experiences we collect, rather than in material possessions or fleeting pleasures.
There is a suggestion that the soul, with its capacity for love and connection, is immortal and far more valuable than the transient physical body.
The author encourages readers to engage with the content critically and to follow their work for further insights into their perspective on relationships and society.

Do you want the praise of a man who curses himself three times an hour? — Marcus Aurelius

Just recently, my grandfather died, and it was only now that my grandmother revealed how they met and got married. I’ll keep it brief; I promise, and don’t worry you won’t need tissues:

“On a Monday, I attended a “dance party,” (a rare source of entertainment for young people in 1955 in Bulgaria), with a group of girlfriends. As I sat with my back to the stage, I sensed a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, your grandfather, a true Alain Delon (A David Beckham of his time), firmly requested a dance. He asked me out and proved to be a true gentleman, fetching me from home, treating me to dinner, and ensuring I got back safely.

The very next day, we met again and shared another wonderful time. As the date came to an end, he surprised me by asking for my hand in marriage. His earnest words lingered in the air: “You’re so beautiful, and I want to give you everything I have, even if it’s not much.” It felt wild, but the thought of this potentially being our last meeting made me reluctant to let go, so I agreed.

The following day, I brought him home to meet my dad. Surprisingly, right at the doorstep, my father refused to let us in, expressing disappointment in me. At that moment, your grandfather locked eyes with my dad and calmly stated, “You don’t talk to my wife like that.” Remarkably, from that point on, they forged a strong friendship. We held hands on that day, and even in the face of death’s separation, I haven’t let him go.”

She shared all of this with me, her voice infused with love, each word trembling as if she were a 13-year-old girl experiencing the rush of love for the very first time.

I yearn for the old-school essence of relationships. In today’s era, we label genuine connections as “retro.” Everywhere you look, it’s a bombardment of the physical. Sexuality seems to be omnipresent. It feels like everything is laid out on a platter, unasked for, and everyone indulges to the brink of excess, reaching a saturation point that mirrors overindulgence.

But instead of throwing up and going on a diet, people start with perversions, drugs, and brutal polygamy, degenerating into chronic promiscuity.

Every night, the same unhappy women and the same unhappy men go to the same shitty restaurants, seemingly trying to please each other, but dreaming of pleasing themselves, of elevating themselves in the eyes of the blind, of being heard by the deaf… In the name of this cause, money is spent in car dealerships, plastic surgery clinics, and SPA centers… Yet, in these pursuits, the irony remains — the more we strive for external validation, the more elusive it becomes.

We live in the age of packaged nothing and empty words.

Few, daring to mend their souls, often find themselves in the divorce narrative. When was the last time you witnessed a man’s gesture of flowers, opening a car door, or shifting a chair? And if so, how often was it, not just a first-date performance but a genuine, recurring expression of profound connection? These acts of authentic care and respect have become rare gems in our modern relational landscape.

What happened to the allure of personality and character? The fascination with the mysterious and nuanced chemistry between two people, sharing quiet laughs and gradually finding their way towards each other on the 5th or 10th date?

The absence of moral and ethical principles doesn’t faze them; if anything, it’s embraced. There’s a perverse satisfaction derived from being a part of this degenerate, emotionally, and spiritually primitive society. It encapsulates the masochism of Homo sapiens in the 21st century, and ominously, it stands as the sole force that could eventually lead to our downfall.

When we are old and grey, we won’t care if, for any of this, nothing is really ours anyway in life. We only borrow it, till we die, and it all goes. So give flowers and be interested in faces, eyes, and souls.

The only thing we truly own in this life is moments and time.

Your body is only a shell. And what’s inside?

Probably lives forever.

And, as always, remember not to take everything in this article mot-a-mot. All of this is simply the result of another brainstorming session in my Gemini mind. If you’re curious about the ongoing mess inside my head, check my other articles, and hit that follow button for a front-row ticket to the madness. Let’s keep the conversation rolling!