Paragraphs and persuasion, please. I am not in the business of mindless choppy texts and unemotive smileys. I will NOT respond to chats.
Another uninspiring afternoon with November ending. Waiting, always waiting: for classes to start, for hours to end, for nothing to transpire. What do you see when you study the sky? Some bland whitening episodes of those cumulus clouds, stories you will never hear, and what. Where do you turn when everything’s a vexation; to where do you come home? Questions and more questions when you know Life becomes nothing but repercussions --- days gravest as they come. You expect something out of nothing ---
chiming and repeating, rewinding all your secondhand emotions. You are replaceable, a slight generic dent in the Universe. Nothing becomes your everything.
As past results show:
I am not going to engage anyone who happens to be visiting my country just because you happen to be in the proximity (there is an escort service for that, yes).
I am not going to reply to anyone using your throwaway account (you look like some petty criminal using his burner phone as featured somewhere in Law and Order).
I will need to know your actual age, and that age needs to be around three years different from mine (the old ASL will do, thank you very much).
Any other chronic TV junky who is aware of where I quoted my post title from is always a delight.
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