"It's the best there is."

With advance apologies to Yossarian, Doc Daneeka, Snowden, and the maid in the lime-colored panties, I don't know whether I can adequately land this proverbial plane. I'm going to try, of course. But I don't know if it's going to make sense.

It's a funny thing-- thinking about this venture too too much. Some amount of thought and self-reflection is necessary, if you're going to advance beyond the pleasantries and ho-hum bullshit of "get to know me!"-isms. But if you really hyperfixate on the whys and the whos of this whole affair (pun intended), I guess it can leave you feeling like a sane person in an insane situation. Or is it an insane person in a totally reasonable situation? I dunno. Been a few years since I've read the book, admittedly.

I am here because I want more. I've neither the desire nor the energy to bash my spouse. I just want more. I'm greedy. I covet. I see and I think and I imagine and I want. I need a direction to channel all of... this. Because some days, I feel absolutely fucking crazy to live like this. Life is going on all around us, goddamn it. Is it a sin to keep these things to oneself? To not engage and stimulate these parts of our souls? Best parts of us, dying on the vine under the crushing weight of indifference or disinterest.

Parent of one. Already one divorce under my belt and that was plenty. Not looking to change your situation. But I want to banter. I want to charm, and be charmed. Inspire me. Be a muse, or at least as much of one that might be possible for a desk jockey to appreciate in the year of our lord 2024. Friendly, thoughtful, introspective, empathetic. Tall-ish. Dad bod. Voice made for radio, I've been told. I posses the time and energy and desire to commit to something like this. Assuming you're the right woman.

Deep dives preferred. We can yell into the void together. Build playlists. Talk shop. Dick around. Share exactly the amount of our silly little lives that we're comfortable with, with someone else. Laugh and shit.

Be around my age. Live for something more than yourself. West Coast-types are ideal, since I'm that awful combination of night owl plus early riser. It's bullshit, for the record. Please have something to say. I can think of few things that are as much of a buzzkill than a one-sided conversation; might as well talk to my houseplant at that point.

I'm just a man, you're just a woman. We've been doing this since before language existed, so no need to overcomplicate. But since we're degenerates in our own ways, let's at least be respectful about it.

Energy and enthusiasm matter. First impressions matter. We make this our world with our rules.

Start here. Go elsewhere. You know the deal.