We might still have them. We might have lost them. We might have never known them. We might have the best relations imaginable. We might grieve them our entire life. We might be strangers. We might be loved and held. We might be abused. We might be left behind. We might leave someone behind instead.

Shall we keep these relations for the sacral value of family, even while we’re dying inside? Do we have the luxury of burning the bridge? Or do we stay in touch because the reasons run deeper than we admit? Sadly, I know my answer.

And then there’s the other family – the unexplainable something. The Ones.

Ones who keep your heart warm leagues away from the place where you were born and bred. Ones you reach for when you feel unsafe. Ones who talk high-end shit and the most idiotic stories of your life across a ten-minute span, and somehow both matter. Ones who don’t judge. Ones who see you for you. Ones I personally envision insanely rich, happy as fuck, and who are already invited to all my publishing parties for years ahead.

My nearest and dearest, on this fucked-up day, here it is: thank you. Probably I did some good in a past life, to have you all in this one. For the first time I don’t feel lonely, and I have so much to care for.

Thank you, tribe. Glad to find you. Worth the survival.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

8 sessions, 7 people, 1 therapist, 24 hours of therapeutic work.

Beware my personal evidence-based discoveries along the way. I’m not a therapist, I’m not a guru, I’m just me – girl, who has been through a bunch of stuff and still survived the ride. So, here goes:​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

1. People can and gladly will colour you however they please.

2. Someone else’s relief feels almost as good as your own.

3. People tend to misinterpret strong as evil.

4. You have no idea how many people shrink themselves to fit. Makes you wanna be as insane as possible.

5. We are not that unique in our struggles – evidence-based.

6. Occasionally people will piss you off doing something you don’t allow yourself to. So why don’t you?

7. ‘Everything happening in this room is for you and about you’ – evidence-based.

8. I love being happy for others.

9. We don’t vibe – I dissociate, you disappear.

10. You park bulldozer in my border line – I bite your head off. Easy.

11. No-bs male therapists = safe male figure.

12. ‘Fake it till you make it’ – evidence-based. You can make people believe whatever you please. The trick is to genuinely believe in it yourself – and do the work.

13. Saying out loud how you feel and what you want prevents and fixes billions of problems and gives you exactly what you want – evidence-based

14. Processing and going through intense emotions on the positive side of the spectrum is as hard as going through negative ones of the same magnitude.

15. You’re projecting on yourself whatever you even for a second think about others, so it’s a cool thing to reflect on where tf this is coming from?

16. Some people have emotional intelligence of the rock and it’s not your quest to save or fix them.

17. No feedback is also a feedback.

Group is a fantastic space to see yourself from others’ perspective, do a sort of reality check, see your blind spots.

Group work was intense. Everyone healed a tad more. Definitely will do it again. 10/10, would recommend to a friend. I’ve never felt better.

Love you all, wish you well,

Sana

xoxo​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I was experimenting. Wearing pink and orange. Lace lingerie and silky dresses. Coloring my hair blonde and my lips red – well, yours truly should keep some all-time classic.

My Georgian roots called me home, and I found my happy place on the other side of the planet.

I was paragliding in Svaneti. I landed in a puddle of mud. Happy. Free. With happy tears on my cheeks. Feeling like the entire world just gave me a huge, so long needed hug.

And now I realize – ryssians stole that from me too. Bastards.

So yes. 2021 was three homes before. Ouch.

I saw storms while hiking mountains. Screamed into the might of them. Embraced it all. Romanticized every moment, made love with it, savoured it as long as humanly possible. Human limitations.

I was hot as hell and shy as hell – not by choice, more bullied into that state. Yet, I started discovering my bossy-as-fuck essence, and weaving it into my soft-as-kitten nature finally worked out nicely. Growth!

I put together the studio I’d dreamt of. Sang and practiced every day, everywhere. Recorded over and over, fine-tuning, doing singing homework in bed, practicing with passion – obsession, even. And while I recorded demos, I tamed demons, fought my imposter, and wrote some beats.

I spent hours in meditation, searching for something to lean on. It would help me tons when I woke up in 2022.

I cuddled with Puma a lot. I took Louna in and the next day she scratched my face to blood, five minutes before the meeting. We were learning to live together. To coexist in our little pride. We succeeded eventually and became a small family of three, and I became a mother of dragons. They were my Toothless and my Psycho, and I love them both, wherever they are now.

I danced till morning with my bestie on the island.

I was building my first genuinely-mine home. Where the scents were mine. The linens were mine. Those walls and ceiling were mine and mine only.

And yes – to support my extravagant lifestyle, yours truly was working two jobs. Yay me. Not doing that again.

So that hard, oh so hard 2021 was, in fact, a huge blessing. I love every moment of it. Wouldn’t change a second.

And to that girl: my sweet summer child, hold on tight for whatever awaits you once you finally feel like your life is all put together. It will be one hell of a ride. You’ll hate it all. You’ll rebuild yourself from ashes several times. And however scared you’ll be, you’ll make it to 2026 and to your new home. Stay strong, baby girl. I know it’s hard. I didn’t wanna do it all either. But I managed to survive this. And so will you. I got you. Come here, let me give you a hug. And some courage. You’ll need it.

Seven days on the platform, three days of observations, one hookup and one fantastic date. All characters are fictional, all coincidences are accidental.

Ep. 1. “THE CROWD”

I have two words for you: assorted goods.

Kaleidoscope of every worldly possible (and not legally restricted I must say) passion, kink and desire. Whatever hides in the deepest corners of your fantasies has a permanent Pure residence. Whatever you’re into – there are others, who love it too. Just so you know.

A crucial note to my queens: I finally found out where they hide all the cute ones – in the EU. Either Greek or Nordic gods, literally. Vacation season is coming, something to think about as well, ladies.

So, let’s go through our selection of goods. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it’s just what it is. You either smash or pass, and don’t fight the windmills. Still, responsibly banning and reporting occasional pervs and scumbags, helping to keep the Pure community as safe, sound and pure as possible🫰

• Sana’s location: Barcelona, Spain

• Geo selection: worldwide

• Into: men, women, non-binary

• Age: 25-45 (Sowwwry, I don’t play house with either children or elderly. And no, I do not consider people 45+ automatically elderly – I just assume it will be harder to find common ground with older folks, and we are not there for complexities)

With no further ado, meet our crowd.

• Every letter on the LGBTQIA+ menu🫰

• Ladies who would love to introduce newbies to their religion.

• Doms looking for subs, subs looking for doms, switches who just wanna finally get laid.

• Consent-conscious, consent-first, safe sex practices only crowd – here comes the result of proper sex education.

• Couples in search of someone gorgeous to join them. Where she speaks for them. Confidently, knowing what she wants, fully in control, and either “I’m curious, let’s discover together” or “done it before, will do it again” energy.

• And where he speaks for them. And for some reasons, normally she hasn’t done it before. And she’s never been with a girl. And it feels like she’s just too darn scared to lose him, and uses every ace in her sleeve to save that sinking ship, compromising with herself each step of the way. I just wanna give her a hug. She deserves better.

• Cheating boys – just like no fucking way and no fucking comments. We sense you in a mile, just in case. Y’all terrible liars-liars in pants-on-fire situation.

• Boys that have a kink for body fluids.

• Married boys with photos from their weddings in place of profile pics. Dude, next time be a lamb, and at least remove that chick in the veil from the photo. Like come on.

• Boys pretending to be girls (not in a trans way, in a fake way).

• Boys who show off their dicks instead of hello. Big, small, wide, thin, veiny, cut and not – choose your fighter, brace yourself for the role of Penis Michelin (but in watching-not-touching merchandise manner, we are not sluts here. still, to my slut girlies – go for it, no shame nor shade, complete and full support!). Let’s embrace it as a part of fun!

• “Prince Charming” boys, who prove that chivalry is still alive.

• “I wanna find a wife, have 5 kids, and play house” boys.

• Anything-but-boring boys (I’m mostly talking of boys, as I had a bigger statistical representation of male species. Sorry, didn’t mean to exclude others – that’s on Pure, not on me.)

• Boys and girls and thems, who share passion for artsy dates. Ones, who wanna be taken out to the museum and fucked in the bathroom after.

• Ravers.

• Perfect gentlemen boys.

• Ones, who will tell you everything and anything, just to finally get laid.

• Beautiful, expressive, and diverse weirdos.

• Finance bros and entrepreneurs.

• Writers and muses, and ones, who are both.

• Thems, who wish you to support your local queer artist.

• Narcissist boys.

• Queens, who can talk for hours about feminism and spanking.

• Femdom queens🫰

• Boys who in their 50s look for something casual (and that’s when I narrowed down my age group to 25-45).

• Love bombing boys.

• Boys who arrange apples in kinda-artsy patterns.

• Boys who shout “age is just a number”.

• Boys who either side you with MILFs or teens in your 30s.

• Ones, who just love versatile sex, want it, have it, will have it again, and not shy about it.

• Boys, who are ready to start a war for your lips (sweetie, I’d rather ask you to end a war or two).

• Boys, girls and thems, who love to dominate and to be dominated. Switchiiiiiiiieeeees🫰

• Boys who will play like a knight around you – the queen you truly are.

• Boys with that peaceful yogi glance, with love for latex and hot nights in private clubs.

• Boys who quickly get under your skin – rookie mistake, not doing that again.

• Boys who like impregnating. IMSORRY WHAAAT?

• Boys, who request your selection of engagement rings in the fifth message.

• Boys and girls, who share dinner dates and hotel fantasies.

• Boys who delete their accounts once you hit it off.

• Boys, who wanna be Gomez to your Morticia right away.

• Military boys.

Surprisingly, no boys with fish.

So here it is. The crowd.

Stay tuned for further updates on this little project of ours. And once again – all characters are fictional, all coincidences are accidental, I’m just delusional enough and had a spare hour and enough audacity to create this lore.

Love you all, wish you well, and don’t forget to buy yourself some good condoms – SKYN, Trojans and ONE are pretty chill (or whatever you kids prefer). But please, oh please, no Durex-Contex bullshit. Good ones and good (and safe) vibes only🫰

Love you all, wish you well,

Sana

xoxo

I was sitting in the healing corner of my temporary Sarrià-Sant Gervasi ground floor apartment, which was the worst of a place and the best of a place simultaneously. With a cuppa, tissues, and my notes wide open. I looked like I’d been chewed up and spit out, with a terribly looking bun on my head, in the brown-ish hoodie that had seen better times, with nothing else on except for underwear, covered all over with the blanket, as if it would ever make me warm. I was sitting, thinking, drinking, smoking, working. Figuring out how to tell her story.

My fever-ish brain wasn’t the best companion in this matter, yet I had nothing better to do than to think about her. Her hazel, constantly cheerless eyes, elongated features, and the nose with that tiny bump on it.

And then I thought: what if I just approach this as a therapeutic exercise? Meaning, I’ll walk her through a certain period of time or specific events and I’ll just write down whatever feels right along the way. As in – People. Events. Feelings. Emotions. Loss. Again and again. Loss as a leitmotif for years. To the point where it felt like there was nothing left but to gain instead.

And there it was: the approach. Nice.

Hi. I’m Sana. That was the morning I decided to do this seriously. Nice to meetcha!

I’d love to know your name and your story too – I’m always fascinated by other human beings. That’s my favourite kind of fun – to observe, and to take notes. Responsibly and respectfully, to ease your shoulders that just got tense. Come here, my dearest friend, let me give you a hug.

Not to bore you right away with the entire story of my life, I’ll tell you this. I’ve been through much, going through even more, rebuilding and starting over my whole entire life from scratch in a new city, a new country, half world away from home, and of course – alone, as I always do.

And, most importantly, I’m rediscovering writing for myself along the way. To be completely honest, I’ve been writing my whole life. I didn’t pursue it seriously back then, but I’m doing it now. I do it every day, religiously. The long chain of events that led me to this writing-obsessed state is rather tragic. I’ll reveal it all eventually, page by page – inspired by real events, woven into fictional cloth, you’ll never know if it’s truth or lie. And that’s the beauty of it.

Also – I have the audacity to allow people to pay me for my craft not once I’m all grown and established, but now, while doing so. Because I know I’m good. I finally broke the spine of my internal critic and imposter. It’s so liberating.

Here, I’ll be testing different angles, putting together source material dumps, publishing essays and notes on emigration, loss, sensory experiences, and the chains of thought that don’t fit anymore in my notes, my Insta, or that beautiful head of mine. And I’ll gladly take you along for the journey from idea to publication of my first book – plus periodic field reports from Barcelona’s dating fauna.

So, as I was saying. I’m glad you’re here. Stay if any of this is your kind of trouble. And I’d love to hear what you think.

Love you all, wish you well,

Sana

xoxo