The one...He'll follow it's chemistry. I don't want perfection. I don't need a song and dance. I don't need a body in the mirror....And yes, there is a spectrum among these interests, and yet, I'm sharply focused on matters that wouldn't be at a loss of this, because it wouldn't be merely a matter of , aka me, of some narcissistic endeavor. I'm not into Hollywood love, body to body (Even if church bigots that I grew up with scream PORN ADDICTION, which is a choice grid that ass strategy for poor dears inc, at least of the so-called rainbow design). It's something else...and this is something that doesn't require the literal, or say, sex kitten plays in the mirror, but like the time when we were kids...favorite movies, fun times, mindless energy loving, where matters wouldn't have to be so serious...among parents who love us too and we recognize that. It's just not so hard to find that, and yet, these days in this existing culture of stardom hell and holy mountain shit, it seems impossible...Everyone is so together these days that everything is falling part...possibly maybe. I can't say, but the dynamic, the interaction between has been stale. Even that, to be in that mode, of hey, good to see you but we are stale. I like that too...something that isn't coming from the absurd bullshit that took over the area post-80s, mid-90s crew, of folks caught up into some evil bullshit, running, intending on staying young forever, fucking with the generations shoveling their nice as ice bullshit for far too long. It's not a matter of hate for, but rather acknowledging something went wrong. So many folks, even among the opioid bullshit that happened, are now dead, and far too early. Meanwhile our earth angels are doing all to keep the entire country stuck on repeat, and any sense of love between the hearts that aren't so into bodies in the mirror, far removed from each other. Something like that. I could always be wrong, but what I do follow is that I don't have a type ultimately. Sure, the daddy bear is my body in the mirror....luuuuuvvvvv, but that isn't love. Love, from experience, begins with a souring, a sadness, a vulnerability, of which there is a connection, which isn't a goddamn hopeless place Rhianna, but rather a willingness to drop the type and be turned onto something unexpected. To recognize the human faculties remain here to fuck you up, so might want to find ways of connecting that aren't so superficial. Otherwise, as a Real Housewife noted of, the love fades, and it is 2 bodies in the sack, fucking miserable. Fuck a type, just know we are on a rock spinning around a ball of fire and that fate will bring you together with the one you were supposed to be with...it's going to be okay.
My Type
