Writing & Creative Writing

She invited me casually, saying that she had some sort of rewards she had to use and that it would have amounted to a nice British Airways flight in business class, however there was a deadline and she would have missed on the freebie if she didn't act upon it. I was quite inebriated from that bottle of Malbec that I had chugged but also quite mellow in my post-sex nirvana mode.

A coast to coast trip to the US. It was definitely on my checklist. She had found an organized one for British people, with a tour guide and all but also with a couple of days of "freedom" here and there.

"These trips must have been well-suited for older people" I said ungratefully but, after having noticed her face I added "But it's very nice of you to think about me for this and, I don't know, not your sister for example". "Her? No way! I hate you way more than her" she replied, boasting her beautiful smile and cuddling me in the meantime.

Yeah, she was trying to get close to me, under my skin. It had been about three months but even if she had to come over to Marylebone from Harrow and it took her about an hour, she was very often at my place. I had to sneak her in since house rules allowed guests only one night a week. The landlady was trying to control the influx of strangers, it made sense. My buddy and I were doing numbers. It was a good deal for me because I liked her, logistically it just worked, I could save money on going out because often she brought stuff for us to indulge on in bed, she came for me and viceversa... it was a good deal for both I guess. On weekends we would go out somewhere nice and end up home anyway. I had to cook breakfast on weekends, I learnt how to cook eggs in various ways, to eat avocado and embarrassingly also to cook halloumi cheese, which once I had served raw and gave a bite to, feeling like I was eating rubber covered in plastic.

I had started to notice that she had left some items to mark the territory. I had a deal with my flatmate to share the responsibility of covering each other asses with our girls. We each had a cardboard box in which put the girls stuff, after having taken pictures to put it back where it was almost exactly. I would hand it over to him and viceversa.

"That's my flatmate stuff, I am so annoyed! He broke up but his girlfriend still hasn't come to pickup her things... to be fair, he has a similar box of mine in his room, I will have to ship it or something at some point" was our line more or less.

Eventually, the amount of stuff became so voluminous that he sat me down for a night cup of scotch that he had with a cigar, I just had a square of dark chocolate with it.

"Dude, it's over. She is moving in. You gotta set boundaries or I got news for you... you have a fiancée. Next, she's gonna talk you into moving in together, going for a trip somewhere and bs like that. You have been warned! I am not seeing other girls lately, so you must be into her, I just want you to be aware of that too"

My dear Dutch womanizer friend almost nailed it to perfection. She had indeed told me also that she wanted to move out from her home, she was still living with her parents and her younger sister... She had a serious relationship with her high-school but he ended up cheating on her, something like that. "And you start dating an Italian dude after that?" her sister told her repeatedly. "He's my Italian dude" she replied proudly.

Nails on chalkboard that also turn you on. Weird stuff.

Experience makes you see the future, especially in other people's lives.

She was my first exclusive relationship in my initial rebound phase after my second breakup for the same reason: I was working too much, she felt like having sex everyday, sometimes multiple times to once every week or about that was the beginning of the end. A downgrade. I didn't love her anymore. Or maybe it was more profound, she saw me passionate about something else that wasn't her.

"You are gonna dump me once you become successful, it's just a matter of time" she had told me a few times... red flags masked as flattering words. I just didn't know how to interpret them back then.

She also had free time, she was hitting the gym and the dudes at the gym were hitting on her, until a personal trainer hit her for real. I had found out by doing something I never did before, she was the jealous one, for once I was the one checking her phone. She wasn't expecting it and...

Boom. Busted.

Anyway, I guess you have to try everything in life and being cheated on is a great movie, I recommend! As a man, your character is tested and you better behave in your self-interest otherwise you are doomed.

I chose to not forgive and I threw her out of our flat, well, our room since we were sharing with other people back then as well. She had to move country, to complicate things, it was a mess but I didn't care. It was her own problem now. I had stopped caring. It was over. Five years gone. After a few days of sadness, I went full throttle to working and working out. I got promoted and I became ripped. I was in my top shape and I started hitting on girls of all colors and backgrounds.

Clichè rebound manwhoring.

She was a British lady, nordic looking, a bit taller than me, slim, curves in the right spots but also fake tan, gluten intolerance and other quirks. She came from money so I wasn't worried about the fact that she was with me because of my status. I was not wealthy but I was in that phase where I was flashing a lot given that I was working between hedge funds, trading houses and living in Central London. I also liked showing that I was Italian and also my body, I am not gonna lie. Being taken for a professional escort while waiting for my date was both a compliment and a degrading thing. Being treated as a piece of meat was new as well, different kind of movie from being cheated on but it gets boring after a while.

"Oh, so is this how women feel like?" I wondered while swiping on my dating apps -plural.

Sex was great with her, she completely gave herself to me and made me feel like a real man, hard to explain but the closest thing is imagining a majestic feline turning into a house cat looking for cuddles. "She cursed me" I thought, remembering her profile picture dressed like a slutty witch. We had so much of it that she thought I was addicted to it, well, maybe. I was just hungry for that extra kill up until blood came out of me, literally.

I didn't have a passport yet, the UK was still part of the EU but I needed it to go to the US. I used that excuse to pull the handbrake on our trip and consequently our relationship.

"Did you book your appointment at the Consulate? Please don't be lazy, I need to book everything, I am waiting for you!" she asked concerned. "I will, I am just so busy with work lately" I replied thinking if I should have replied to my DMs on Tinder and Bumble and POF and Match.

Long story short, I didn't go, we were still technically together but I took the opportunity of the distance to detox from her.

Clichè rebound manwhoring, speedrun edition.

I had started my career as heartbreaker, I didn't like it so I became more selective, I favoured the hot ones that wanted the same thing as me, better if they already had something going on, no string attached. I had my bi-weekly STD check appointment even if I always used protection, I was ordering them in bulk.

I was going through women like a bulimic person would go through premium chocolates and cakes. Was I sick?

One day, clicking on a Google Photo notification, I saw a picture of her in the US, alone. She looked great and surely that could have been the picture that made her match with somebody else. I wished her all the best. I didn't join her on that trip, I got my passport post Brexit, without any specific reason or subconsciously to grow balls whenever a similar trip was presented to me and behave more like a man. Or maybe, I should invite a girl for a trip if I like her, worse that can happen we have a good time, best that can happen... it doesn't work between us and goodbye and thank you.

https://twitter.com/polyMatto/status/1775037147172548640

I am different, stuff hits me, happens to me and I return stuff back my own way. My own frequency. Most living creatures will evolve to notice the differences between me and my peers, good, because I am. Different. My whole identity relies on my uniqueness. Those who argue that I am just like them are ignorant, they don't know what I am going through and I will make sure they know. What? You don't even care I exist? How dare you? This is very offensive, it almost makes me want to return a different frequency. Is it better now? Can you see me? Hello? Why can't anyone see my pain? Helloooooo! What is wrong with the world? Why can't I be special? I am, I know I am. I can do anything. But you have to look at me, otherwise it's pointless. What? Me just doing my thing and mingle with the others? No way! I am not like the others, literally. Mixing up to make new unique frequences? Uhmmm, it's interesting but it's a theory that's too easy to push too much up until you get to the one frequency, the one that only the holy prism can split.

A color is a characteristic of visual perception that results from the light they emit, transmit, or reflect. This perception is mediated by the wavelength (or frequency) of the light, with different wavelengths corresponding to different colors. Colors can be described in terms of their hue (such as red, green, or blue), saturation (the strength or purity of the color), and brightness or value (how light or dark the color is).

Colors are perceived when light receptors within the eye, called cones, are stimulated by electromagnetic radiation in the visible spectrum. Humans typically have three types of cones, each sensitive to a different range of wavelengths, which allows us to perceive a wide spectrum of colors through a process known as trichromacy. The interpretation of colors is also influenced by context, culture, and individual differences, making color perception a complex and fascinating aspect of human vision.

Of course they were late, of all days they had to choose today, of course. I am both excited and terrified to introduce him to them. Dad is gonna grill him, for sure, I guess it’s healthy though, it’s also going to be telling how he dodges dad’s blows… I trust him, he’s gonna do OK, I wouldn’t have set all this thing up if I didn’t believe in him. Mum is going to give me that look and then she’s gonna embarrass me by being too loud with her honest but too honest comments.

Cars went by and I kept scanning for their Uber, they had shared the ride status with me but it had stopped a couple of blocks away from here. I thought it was a bug and I tried to call them instead, unsuccessfully. I’d better go back inside and check on him, they are not picking up their phones anyway… assholes, funny how roles reversed, they used to lose it at me when I didn’t pick up on their phone calls within the first three seconds.

I headed back and now he was gone too, what’s going on today? Lemme call him.

“Babe, where are you? I see some glasses on the table” — I inquired confused and a bit concerned, everyone was giving up on me today, on this important day.

“Hehe, turn around…” — he replied with his amused voice.

I did and, damn it, dad did it again, one of his pranks. They were all together already, at their, I guess, second round of drinks, talking crap about me for sure! They looked fine, enjoying themselves, maybe things are going well!

“Hey mum, hey dad! I thought you were lost… what happened?” — I asked as I kissed and hugged them. Dad spin me around lifting me and then joked about me being too heavy for his back.
“Update your repertoire dad, these are like 20 years old jokes!” “If they are not broken, don’t fix them!” — he answered while winking at me and pointing at my big smile and pinching my cheek right afterwards.

“We were just telling your handsome boyfriend, or should I say fiancée…” — mum added “muuuuuuummmmm!!” I promptly stopped her while feeling a build up of heat on my face, especially my cheeks.

Dad, very entertained, grabbed mum’s hip and finished her sentence “yeah, so we were telling your —friend— about that time you used to love spinning at the park on that thing, the spinning thing thingy” he was at it again, I couldn’t stop laughing.

As jokes, laughter and awkwardness kept unfolding I kinda zoomed out, like if I separated from my body and observed the whole thing in third person. That’s what I want, what mum and dad have. Is this it? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe they already ran a background check on him, they jokingly came in early to spook him out or something like that. Dad loved to test characters, mum loved to test dad so… so far I’d say this meeting is a success!

As I went to nod to myself in approval I was again in the middle of it and they were all looking at me, like waiting for an answer.

“What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?” — I asked everyone and no one in particular. “You didn’t touch your drink, is there anything you want to tell us?” — dad asked me, again, apparently I didn’t hear it the first time around. Shit, he had figured out already! Actually, maybe it was mum, she whispered something to his ear and I had noticed how she was looking at my body, at how my clothes fitted… she wouldn’t have dared, dad, instead, didn’t give a single ef, some things never change…

“…Early, early days… that’s also why you guys are here” I replied, again excited and a bit scared, I looked at them both in the eyes. In one instant — tears. Two tears of joy cut open my dad’s face as he hugged me, this time, refraining from spinning me around. Mum wiped them off his face with her hand and asked me “Are you happy? You look happy” with her cracking voice while my dad fake punched my… friend and then congratulated him, slowly morphing into a more composed face, I noticed for the first time some wrinkles on his forehead, were they new?

“Your balls, mind them. You better be a man with our little, not so little girl anymore… she is one of our most precious accomplishments in life and I will make sure that she is OK no matter what, I am sure you can understand… you are going to take care of her, correct?” — dad told him with his trademark serious face.

“Yes sir, it’s going to be my duty but also my pleasure, I love her very much, sir” he answered as he gave him a strong handshake without losing eye contact for a second. He had never told me that he loved me and now he told my dad.

—

Naturally, they chose today of all days to be late. The mixture of excitement and terror at introducing my boyfriend to my parents was palpable. I knew Dad would put him through the wringer—it’s just his way, but how my boyfriend navigates Dad’s interrogation would be telling. I had faith in him; otherwise, I wouldn’t have arranged this meeting.

Mom would certainly give me that look before inevitably embarrassing me with her loud and brutally honest comments.

As cars passed by, I anxiously scanned each one for their Uber. They had shared their ride status, which oddly showed a stop a few blocks away. Assuming it was a glitch, I attempted to call them, to no avail.

Frustrated and a bit amused by the irony—I remembered how they’d panic if I missed their calls within the first three seconds—I decided to head back inside. Maybe they were having trouble connecting as well. The roles had amusingly reversed.

Inside, my boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. What on earth was happening today? Dialing his number, I tried to hide my concern.

“Babe, where are you? I see some glasses on the table,” I asked, more confused than ever, feeling a bit abandoned on this important day.

“Hehe, turn around…” His voice, laced with amusement, came through the phone.

As I turned, a mixture of relief and annoyance washed over me—Dad’s penchant for pranks had struck again. There they all were, laughing together, presumably at my expense, already on their second round of drinks. Perhaps things were going better than I expected.

“Hey, Mom, Dad! Thought you’d gotten lost...what happened?” I greeted them with hugs and kisses. Dad, in his typical fashion, lifted me in a playful spin, joking about my weight—a tease as ancient as time.

“Update your jokes, Dad. They’re like 20 years old!”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!” He retorted, his wink and the pinch on my cheek drawing a big smile from me.

Mom, ever the instigator of blushes, hinted at my boyfriend being more than just that, prompting my immediate, flustered protest. Dad, seizing the opportunity for another jest, recounted my childhood antics with his usual flair, leaving us all in stitches.

As the evening unfolded, filled with jokes and moments of awkward laughter, I found myself momentarily stepping back, observing the scene as if from outside my body. This warmth, this teasing affection, was exactly what I wanted. Had they done their due diligence on him, surprising us both by arriving early? It seemed Dad’s character tests and Mom’s subtle endorsements were in full swing—a promising sign.

Caught in my thoughts, I barely noticed the silence that had fallen over the room until their collective gaze turned to me, expectant.

“What? Why are you all staring?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“You haven’t touched your drink. Is there something you want to share?” Dad’s voice, filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, broke through my reverie.

Realizing the significance of the moment—and perhaps that Mom had already guessed the truth—I met their eyes, a mix of joy and apprehension swirling within me.

In an instant, tears of happiness etched lines down Dad’s face as he embraced me, his usual playful spin tempered by the gravity of the moment. Mom, with a gentle touch, wiped his tears away, her voice trembling as she sought confirmation of my happiness.

Dad’s serious demeanor returned as he addressed my boyfriend, emphasizing the importance of caring for their cherished daughter. The sincerity and love in my boyfriend’s affirmation, a declaration he had yet to make directly to me, sealed the moment with its profound significance.

https://twitter.com/polyMatto/status/1775680131987542045

“Two bedroom, two bathrooms, one ensuite. Five acres of land with your very own small pine forest and stunning views of the mountains. Ideal for people seeking refuge in solitude and/or willing to setup a short term rental” that was the headline of the ad. I had been reading and rereading so much that I had memorized it.

That was my opportunity, I had to start somewhere. All my friends and even people ten or fifteen years younger than me owned multiple units and were in the flipping game since 2020. I have been sceptical, I thought prices were too high, a bubble. But now I realised that I was left behind, the cash I had in my bank account was losing purchasing power like if it was set on fire, the financial markets looked increasingly like a casino, real-estate was the way, I was going to buy low, fix it, upgrade it with a jacuzzi or stuff like that and ultimately set up a gorgeous short term rental. At that point I was gonna be a TikTok star like all the chads I was following and make some good cheese, metaphorically speaking.

I maxed out my credit card, set up a company and recycled money a few times to make it look like I had cash flow, the rest was easy, at the bank they briefly looked at he papers, ran a standard check and it was all green. Boom, I had my cash! The interest on the loan was astronomical but it didn’t matter, I was going to print in there! There was literally no competition and the place was… pictoresque! Yes, that’s the word I need to use for SEO.

Five months in and I am still hustling, I had a couple of customers, friends of friends that I had hosted for free and to have reviews. Five stars! They had stained the sofa with wine and dropped something heavy on the floor, breaking some tiles but apart from that it was a success, now my establishment, “The loner ridge”, that’s how I called it, was going to have the credibility necessary to start generating some serious cash.

Another six months went by and I had only two guests, three and three and a half stars, respectively: “The hot water was cold, low pressure. Avoid” “There’s nothing around, internet was slow”

The bank called again, they are not going to wait any longer for the payments. I joined a mentorship group, dropped five grand for it, I did everything to the letter but nothing worked.

“It’s the economy” was the common theme. How was it possible? The stock market was making new all time highs every day, unemployment was low and all, minimum wages was increasing, where’s everyone?

I should have listened to ButtWiffHat523 and YOLO shitcoins, he had bought two lambos months ago, right now he must own a few mansions as well.

I am such a loser.

https://twitter.com/polyMatto/status/1776000405526184127

Two shots espresso

“They are onto me, I am telling you, the world is not ready for what I have to reveal. It’s bigger than me, bigger than my company,” he told me while panting, a drop of sweat slipping down his temple to the floor, seemingly evaporating in an instant in the heat of this scorching Italian summer. “You have to give me something. I can’t expose myself like this without any evidence. I need a hint, some kind of proof that you’re serious about this. Frankly, I don’t know if I should believe you at all. I’m here because of our old friendship.” Disappointment, annoyance, then sadness flickered across his face as he locked eyes with me, grabbing my sweaty arm. He spoke words I’ll never forget: “It’s big coffee, it’s a scam, a multibillion-pound scam. Everyone is in it, from the farmers up to the podcasters. It’s the biggest lie and health hazard post… you know what.” He had lost me at “big coffee”. My mind wandered to the actual coffee; we had met there for a cuppa, I was a regular at that place, and he had suggested that I shouldn’t change my habits abruptly. We sat in the private corner with the small table, just to have some privacy or at least the illusion of it.

“I’m gonna order a coffee, do you fancy one?” I asked casually, perhaps I should have waited for him to finish his train of thought, I felt a bit like an idiot but I really wanted a coffee. I couldn’t function in the morning without one or two. “I knew it, you are in it as well. You’re with them!” he exclaimed, standing up quickly as if I had pushed him, his chair falling behind him. “What are you on about? Relax, mate. I just ordered coffee, just an espresso, not a big one like the ones you seem so afraid about!” I joked, trying to calm him down and touching his arm in a friendly manner. It was then that he punched me, straight on my nose. “Ouch, motherf…” I exclaimed. I touched it and I was bleeding. Looking up, I saw him running away. As he crossed the road, I saw the waitress with my coffee coming towards me. A moment of relief, I won’t lie, but then she screamed. As she raised her hands above her head, she dropped the small tray with my coffee.

“Noooo!!” my words blended with her horrified scream.

A big black car, possibly a Range Rover or one of these huge American trucks hit him and ran away, just like that. It happened so fast.

The police arrived soon enough, even too soon if you ask me. Someone pointed in my direction and, long story short, I was going to be escorted for a quick interrogation about what had happened.

I really needed the toilet, so off I went, and one of the cops joined me. I had to go for a number two and he, instead, stopped at the urinals. I did my thing and as I went to pull up my trousers, I noticed something in my pocket, something alien, that I didn’t recognise or had seen before. It was a piece of paper, some handwritten words and a diagram. It was my friend’s handwriting.

“Caffeine simply increases the heart rate of subjects” “No health benefits, everything is propaganda” “It shortens lifespan” “It's an illusion” “Big coffee is the cartel of all the producers and distributors all over the world” “B.C. had pawns everywhere, police included”

Lots of short sentences like this, a long string with twelve words, perhaps a crypto wallet? And then a QR Code circled with the words: IPFS PROOFS beside it.

Knock Knock! “Oh, bollocks!” I instinctively thought out loud. “You already flushed once... Are you done in there?” the cop asked me, his feet very close to my door and his face scanning for anything odd. I looked as if I was still doing my business. “Almost done, sorry, coffee does that to me! Eh eh,” I nervously answered while I pulled out my phone to scan the QR Code.

As I scanned it, a PDF file opened. 545 pages. I typed a random page number: 420, and there it was, all true, the evidence was all there on just one random page!

Then it happened. I looked up, and the cop had been observing me for a while. He had entered the toilet next to me and was just standing there, looking at my phone and everything else.

“You should have just enjoyed your coffee, but you wanted to play the hero. Now, take this double espresso.”

Bang. Bang. That was it.

https://twitter.com/polyMatto/status/1777407803243561272