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hussein1989

To all the trifiling dilos

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Abtigiis   

The art of dating is like a warfare. You need to correctly analyze the situation and adapt the right tactics. If it is a conventional one, for long term implications, you fight the war conventionally. Sending gifts, asking about the girl's family members, passing regards to her friends at every point of communication. "reerkii ka waran, walaalkaa ma qalin jabiyey, igu salaan Malyun etc etc" are some of the ammunition. Future, wisdom, children are the core tools of this warfare. If, on the otherhand, it is unconventional dating, one for short-term gains, you employ gurrilla tactics, you hit and run. You talk rubbish, you act rubbish. You sing 'we got tonight babe, who needs tomorrow, why don't you stay' Kenny Roger material. You embrace vapid meterlialism and talk of the nice restraunt and bar that is opening up next week at the outskirts of the town. You parade gadgets. Your motto has to be 'I don't care avbout anything. I love you'. And you don't care. And the ultimate prize, the one you want to conquer is the body below the belt. You don't make yourself busy on talking to the upper part, only if you are using the equipments on the chest to advance your goals below.

 

So, brother Hussien, the war starts at the day you meet. You assess the material before you. Is it conventional, it is chemical? If is chemical, you wear masks, up and down. And you prepare yourself for a short-lived fight. That always ends in bitterness. So, if your outcry here is a result of picking the wrong tactics, go back and do some evaluation. In life, we meet this situations, and we learn from them. But you should be happy you found out about the girl before she come into your house only to start an insurgency later on.

 

To cope with the current heart-break, do either of this: evolve like Sheikh Sharif and embrace another one. Or go back to her, plead if you have to, pay if you must, lure her to your bed and play to the fullest of your potential. And then discard her along with the condem you are removing. That is the old world tactics of taming the tasteless girls. That is of course if you are young enough to get upset by them and to seek revenge. If not, just move on and go for the right material. Even when shopping, it so happens you sometimes get worthless things you thought were good. It happens.

 

BTW, welcome and have a thick skin for the naysayers who will attack you. You are a man wronged by women, and you can attack them.

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Abtigiis much respect akhi. I m not heart broken its just that I got used and played. Not one bit does it bother me that the relationship ended but the manner in which it ended and who was on the receiving end of the blow.

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Abtigiis   

Hussien, a fellow SOLer sent me a PM and said something that made me wonder if you are only an "Cawaandi of the upper body". He told me a story where this girl who went overseas, started cheating because she heard things that she never got from her husband back home happen there. Apparently, she picked the wrong guy. After several months, the women heart-broken, by the man's forward-looking disposition decided to break her silence. 'Kaalay adigu, ma xagga sare unbaad cawaandi ku tahay?" she confronted him. :D :D Maybe, you have not been found a complete cawaandi.

 

This reminds me of my own experience with a cheat. Long,long time ago, a young girl said she loves me and naturally as a man who doesn't like to disappoint any woman, I agreed. It went well. We were children, I can say. But soon, the parents sent me to school in a far land, and after six months I came back. After washing off the dust of the road, I quickly asked my firend that we should go and see Malyuun.

 

"Which malyun?" he asked. I described her.

"Haa! dee taas Malyuun lama yidhaaye." He answered.

"What? why?"

"No, all the people in town know her as "GORBACHEV". He said.

"Why?" I askd in disbelief.

"They say she has brought openness to the bed romping." he said. "furfuraansho aan horey u jiin ayey ku soo kordhisay magaalada, and men are grateful."

 

I was genuinely broken. Has my sweat-heart, the one I sent tens of letters in the last few months, all along been the river of the town. Aha, I finally saw it. It is Prostryka. It is Glasnost!

 

So, I advise you. Let it go. And look for the real things. You can tell by looking, unless you are so daft that you are like the one's who read a text message "hi sweetie. long time" from a man and take the nonesense that it is from the girl's cousin who lives in far away place.

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