DABOISASTRGLEDT – by Ivaniel “Ivo” Georgiev

DABOIS, hello again. I’m writing this one during a lecture on Philosophical Anthropology, and it feels a bit like Groundhog Day – only without the romantic ending. The first week of college is all introductions, and every new lecturer means another round of “who are you, why are you here, what do you want?”. I mean, I’m glad I’m able to advertise my blog, but I doubt any of these sophisticated PhDs guys really care.

It’s like anything else in life; interesting… the first time.

Today’s lecturer, a woman (if we can still call them that), is just as strange as I’d be if I ever taught. And maybe I will one day (“God’s will,” as they say), but who knows how that would go. (Would I be late for my class? Most importantly, would I make my time worth it?)

Anyway, the topic I wanted to explore today is running away from commitments. This one has been on my mind for one reason or another. And somehow it feels fitting, considering I’m typing instead of listening to the lecture.

So, what does that say about me? About those who fit the profile? Are there positives to running away – or just lessons?

In this case, it’s skipping class. In the past, it was something else. In the future, no one knows. Well, except the atemporal God who dealt the cards before even dealing them (If that doesn’t make sense, that’s okay… we’re on the same page). But this isn’t about God. It’s about the person in the mirror – the one left to figure it out alone, while careless of feedback. (Let that sink in, please.)

The truth is, I’ve never been good at sustaining effort (I wish it were a joke). All I have are my opinions, sure, but sometimes I can’t defend them as well as I wish I could. And yet, when it comes down to it, action matters more than words. The problem is that for a very long time I had an arsenal of things to say – total BS by the way – and now that I’m out of that muddy slope, well, it’s time to focus on the actions.

Easier said than done – you’ll see I repeat this one plenty.

And then comes the harder question: Can I truly commit to another person and build something lasting? (I’ll let you decide by the end.)

Honestly, that’s my weak spot – my Achilles’ heel if you wish. My history, especially in the “women’s department”, speaks for itself. No romance in years. I say I want to “dive deep,” then watch from the sidelines. Peeping Tom vibes? (And I’m not… usually.)

I’ve never stuck with anything for long – except this blog and bad habits that are naturally easy to flow.

The most committed I ever was to another being was when I tried gardening a bunch of times – houseplants, to be precise.  How did it end? I killed them all. It’s a harsh sentence for anyone whom I tried to plant a seed with (thank god it wasn’t that kind of seed).

So yeah, that seems to be the fate of most things that rely on my effort – mostly because of my indifference, among other things. However, with people, it’s not as “black and white.” We are capable of surviving through an enormous amount of crap. With that being said, I don’t mean literally dying from neglect, but what lives between two persons (or more… depending on your preferences) does.

Okay, why write about this? Well, there are many reasons – most of which I can’t name right at this moment – but here are a few:

• I tell myself it’s not worth it – even though I know it is. (“Yes” always is impregnated with a bit of “No,” and likewise.)
• I haven’t had a romantic relationship in a while – none, to be fair.
• My father spent the whole summer reminding me of it – and he is particularly right.
• This one is quite abstract, but I can’t quite imagine the future – even though I claim I can.
• The constant avoiding of “what comes next,” since it demands things I think I can give, but don’t truly believe I would. (Why? Because… well, you shall see.)

Before continuing, I have to thank all of you as always – YES, I’m never gonna stop. To everyone who reads, returns, and gives me their time: Thank you, sincerely! I hope these words make you ask questions that matter to you, and that they push you toward something real – whatever that may be.

My hope is that this blog becomes a space for reflection and, above all, for accepting truth not just for me, but for anyone who finds something of themselves here.

My goal is simple: to make a living, one day, through writing, by exploring what concerns me most. But more than that, I want to help people. The best way to do that is to learn from each other. What that means exactly, time will tell, but for now, I’m sure this doesn’t seem like the wrong path.

And when I say “help,” I don’t mean academic help – not the kind that happens in lectures like this one I’m ignoring. I mean the school of life – those moments that shape us daily, especially the ones we can’t quite name or can’t sense until later.

I’m not a philosopher in the academic sense, but in the true one – a lover of wisdom… at least I’m forced myself to believe in it. How wise I actually am is debatable. Some will think I’m arrogant, others naïve, but through self-irony, I uncover the small truths experiences reveal. For now, that blend of honesty and humour helps me speak most freely.

If you missed the last edition, you can check it out @ Pride, Qualification, Consequences – The Aftermath of Doing and Not…  (It was an interesting story to write and in a way ties closely to today’s theme.)

And if you enjoy what I share, subscribe to my newsletter. You’ll find short reflections, helpful tools, and ideas that might help you see life from another angle.

Alright, enough delay. Let’s get to the heart of today’s topic.

Running Away

Who exactly are we running from?

The answer isn’t simple, and I won’t pretend it is. Funny thing – I’m writing this post on the exact same day as last week, once again skipping the lecture I should be attending. So, yes… I’m literally running away while writing about running away. Ironic, right?

Still, I want to dig deeper, even if every “deep thought” is just the sum of all our small actions leading to it.

So, what exactly am I/are we running from?

I’ve always been good at finding alibis. Some were reasonable, some ridiculous, but the real question is: Why did I even need them in the first place? (By the way, I’m finishing the blog the very next week after starting it, missing exactly the same lecture I attended last week. Tell me more… I know.)

Anyway, for a long time, I believed a person needs connections. But I rarely sought them out – except when I wanted something physical. How did those attempts end? Well… 9.5 times out of 10, I didn’t even know what I was chasing. (Sound familiar?)

It’s ironic: I claimed people needed relationships to grow, yet I kept running from them while sprinting toward them at the same time. The paradox is both funny and sad – hiding a deep lack of awareness.

For years, I thought relationships were purely physical. Attraction was everything; the rest was noise. Looking back, I can see how much my environment shaped that view – and how little it’s changed since.

Rumours, dishonesty, fear of ridicule, the family setting, porn, the “friend zone,” the metaverse and countless other things blended into my own horrifying “brownie recipe” – and I won’t shy from saying that many men, and even females, are in such a position.

But more importantly, together they taught me one thing: you can’t get what you want the way you want it. You have to be Machiavellian to succeed.

And while I might fit parts of Machiavelli’s model, I lack the cruel, in a non-apologising and facing everyone no matter what, character to fulfil it. I can’t be “the bad guy.” I can’t take what I want by any means necessary.

But then again, that’s not entirely true. When I ignore outside pressure and act freely, I can do anything. The problem is… I rarely do because I ponder too much around questions – questions that sometimes are very easy to answer, but… that’s the story of my life.

Nonetheless, a new problem appeared over time: I kept running. The problem is, I now do without having “a destination.” If before I was running from something, now I’m just running for the sake of the game.

What do I mean? I stopped believing that people need relationships to be happy. There’s some selfishness in that, sure, but we are individualistic creatures by design. It’s not that I wouldn’t welcome a relationship if it came naturally, I just don’t see the point in forcing something I can’t see lasting.

Maybe that’s nonsense. In the end, one way or another, all time is wasted. But the truth is, I’d rather waste my own than someone else’s. It’s like my short-lived plant experiment: you water something not because you must, but because you want to.

And still, I catch myself saying one thing and doing another. It’s a constant paradox. It’s a never-ending cycle of epiphanies and breakdowns.

Hence, saying I’m ready to take the step is not the same as taking it.

So, I’ll ask again, BOIS and GALS (just in case you forgot): Who exactly am I/are we running from?

• From others?
• Or from ourselves?
• And if you can’t take responsibility for others… doesn’t that mean you can’t yet take responsibility for yourself?

Fast or Slow: What’s the Difference?

We all run. Some fast, some slow. Some with purpose, most not, but all with one common goal – to survive.

In real life, mostly, I tend to run into awkward situations. Usually, because I say something weird, funny to me, confusing or not appropriate to everyone else. My jokes are often taken too seriously, or not seriously enough. The alternative – trying to sound serious – doesn’t usually go much better.

I’ve come to believe that primary sex leads to stupidity. Don’t believe me? That’s fine. Let me live in my delusion. (I will talk about this one in the future.)

I avoid sleeping with women before we’ve laid our cards on the table – though, truth be told, I’m terrible at card games. Experience has shown me the alternative isn’t worth it. Or maybe I just haven’t met enough bloodthirsty mosquitoes to drain me completely. Either way, it’s not the life I want, even if I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise – and it took time to grasp around this one.

There was also a time when I believed online dating would fix everything. That was cute, but mostly dumb daydreaming. I’ve tried all the apps – from Hinge to Tinder – and rarely did anything come of it. I spent hours explaining myself, only to be unmatched without a word. Translation: “You’re not good enough, figure out why.”

Or maybe we’re the ones not supposed to become (that’s another BS right there). Maybe our egos push us toward people who talk less, hurt more easily, and give more. And perhaps that’s the real trap – because everyone hurts everyone. The only real question is: Who do you let hurt you, and why?

I’ve been improvising on dates before. Some patterns worked – most not – but with time, I learned that lies lead to more lies, and that’s the worst type of time wasted that you can have. Nowadays, the dates I go to are usually “quick dates” – not because I’m impatient, but because I hate wasting time. I get straight to the point. If something’s there, great. If not, well… let’s just say most end as quickly as I do.

Yeah, I’m not the man most women want. I’m a different type of handyman with his particular skill set and tools – literally and figuratively.

Let’s say, I’m only good with my hands when fishing lost objects in the corner under the sofa with my “long fingers” (this is one of my Yelp reviews). And then my tongue isn’t the longest either, but it does fine work when I don’t have a toothpick. Last, but not least, a cowboy’s best friend: the gun. Always loaded, often misfires, but I like to think that missing the target is its own kind of win. Whether fast or slow, it doesn’t matter when you’re there for the long run. As mentioned before, life is mostly about running, and while some are sprinters and others marathoners, I’m a metamorphosis.

All jokes aside, I prefer the long game, the one where you might actually meet the right person – not the perfect one, just the one that will stay beside you on the track.

You can escape everything you want, but not who you are.

I’d like to believe I can have a lasting relationship, but history suggests otherwise. I talk too much, too vaguely, lose my meaning between the lines, and remember the right words too late. Still, that reflection – that looking back and trying to fix – is progress, but progress is hard to describe and even more understood while in solitude.

Sometimes I talk and people don’t care – a reason, I zip up my mouth plenty. Sometimes people change the subject for whatever reason – mostly because the truth hurts. And I happened to come to the solution that, as my father once said, “it’s all just a waste of oxygen.”

And we can talk as much as we want, but we have to find the middle ground. Honestly, I believe what matters is action. Consistent action. Day after day. Until the end. Case closed.

Like watering a plant. You don’t do it because it’ll thank you, you do it because the act itself makes you better. The care, the persistence, the quiet act of giving something your attention – it reshapes you… even if nothing blooms.

So yeah, BOIS and GALS, it’s all perspective. Everything’s in our hands and minds, but only if we know how to use them together. (And if not, well, there are always fruits and vegetables.)

The truth is, if I really wanted something, I’d have it. The fact that I don’t only proves how much I want it.

I’ve always been that dog everybody knows. Let me present you my dog arc: Adorable pup → backyard pooper → suspicious old mutt. No bite, no bark – well, everything has its limits. (And let’s be honest, no one likes those dogs.)

Until When?

Here we are – the final stop. The question fits perfectly: until when?

Truth be told, there are a thousand questions that could lead us to the answer – your answer, my answer – but right now, one matters most:

How long can Mr Ivaniel keep sliding down the same slide he’s been on all his life – only changing the way he slides?  And let’s be honest: no matter how you change your method, the slide remains the same. The only thing that’s changed is me/you not fitting the same way as before, capiche?)

Everyone’s got their own version of this story. You can swap out the slide for something else, but the pattern stays.

I won’t lie and say I learned to live better in the USA, but saying I didn’t would be a lie too. What I noticed was being wanted more than anywhere else before. It sounds appealing, but trust me, it doesn’t. I couldn’t fully fit in. While I blended into some parts of the culture perfectly, in others – such as the love industry – I felt like Randel McMurphy in that cuckoo nest.

Sure, I saw glimpses of something real, but the story never turned in my favour. Either someone else had already found the princess’s shoes I stumbled upon, or the women whose shoes I tried to fit decided they needed a different pair of shoes.

It’s not that I wasn’t ready to sacrifice – quite the opposite. I just realised I couldn’t play every role: psychologist, partner, and friend all at once. They needed to know what they needed to know – which I don’t know what is – and expected from me to patch every hole and have more of the same “medicine” for when it’s needed.

Funny thing is, I’ve always done better with women older than me. That’s not bragging – it’s just fact. But even experience doesn’t erase confusion. Some of them I’ve known exactly what they wanted, but they were twice my age, and that doesn’t exactly promise a bright future. (I may be a dog, but not that kind of dog. And romance that ends with a funeral isn’t my go-to type of romance.) Yes, I lived in Hollywood, but I never became a Hollywood star (though I was considered for one production, but that’s another story).

Honestly, I don’t know what they see in me. I’ve had interest, sure, but I’ve always been passive. I’m no Rod Stewart, even if I do nail his songs at karaoke night – nail might be a strong exaggeration.

The truth? I’m as flawed as anyone. I’ve cleaned up a lot of my old nonsense, until I spin the wheel again and end up right where I started.

No matter what I do, something unpredictable always happens. I don’t guard myself, and I’m not chasing anything at all costs. Sounds a bit heavy for 25, but it’s real – as real as it may be.

And as tradition goes, we end with a poem, and some other times, I’m adding a haiku.

---

The Seasons Change

Perhaps a lie – when truth you choose to hide,
or maybe strength – to watch from far outside.
Each one longs to leave their trace behind;
The path is clear – but how do we arrive?

The beasts – they’ve shed their old and ugly skin,
yet from their roots, it seems impossible to run.
Like a museum guard and the quiet he prefers;
some seek themselves – in the dark night’s sting.

And even when they find their treasured gold,
they fail to see within – the real worth, the grace.
The soul is framed – so cozy, yet misplaced;
Stuck at crossroads daily – growth or no growth.

Yet some made their conscious choice instead;
to stand where others can’t, so they retreat.
I am the first – it’s unlikely you’ll see me weep;
or maybe pride’s the fool – a tumour in my head.

Still, the question lingers, never… ever… fades:
Why was I born a stranger, and never understood?
How should I reply, I’m the cause of every wound.
Always finding answers… walking through mistakes.

And so, year after year, the seasons never stop to spin;
their colours bloom, then fade… then change again.
Amidst their quiet, I too don’t stop – I write, I yell:
I wished, but whether I received – I didn’t and I did.

---

Endless Seeking

I search, I stay still.
No white flag, no crown above.
The path… long ahead.

---

So here we are again, BOIS and GALS, this is the end. It wasn’t easy, but I think I said what needed to be said.

The search continues and always will. Love doesn’t hand out easy answers. Maybe one day I’ll find mine. Maybe not. But I won’t stop looking, even if I’m not paying attention at all times.

The end isn’t really an end. It’s just the point where we draw the line. The boundaries are ours to set. The world reflects what we pour into it.

Be yourself. Do what you want. Try not to disturb others, but if you do, know that it’s human to interfere.

Love heals. Love destroys. And somewhere between the two, we live.

The debate is yours. Runner or Stayer? Skip or stick? I’m Ivo – seeker, finder, semi-lover… You name it.

Everything’s the same, but then it’s not. Until when? There’s only one shot caller.

Last reminder to keep everything in check: Water plants not for thanks, but for you – consistent care reshapes.

Thank you for staying till the end.

Yours,
Ivaniel “The seeker, the finder, and the lover who never gives up” Georgiev

P.S. I hope you enjoyed this one. If you have, good. If I was misunderstood, I’m sorry. It happens. Sometimes, even I don’t understand myself. But everything I write aims to make my situation better, and I hope it translates the same way to you.