What do you want?
You want to transform the sad trash of this world into experiences of such breathtaking intensity that they feel like spiritual asthma. You want the flesh that so diligently serves you in every other capacity to overwhelm you like a slave rebellion. You want to be psychologically and physically anatomised with the cold, loving scrutiny that it would earn a Nobel prize were it done as a branch of science. In short, you want, even for just a moment, to collapse the future and the past into an ecstatic, penetrating present.
Who am I?
I've been around. University professor, business owner, publicly visible––all that shit. I'm the guy that people go to when they want something to happen but don't know how to start. I'm in superlative physical shape; if saggy dad bods are your thing, stop reading now. You want conversation that makes you feel like the female lead in a 1940s film? Then talk to me, but know that this film won't be getting through the censor. Most importantly, I am big enough to accommodate your every extreme; you will throw yourself into me and never hear an echo from the bottom. But I am not unkind: I will tend to you like a garden and see things in you you never even believed were there. When we are done, you will be a bigger spirit than when we started.
Who are you?
You are intelligent, but darkly so; we won't waste each other's time with pretty untruths. You will be in good shape: slim, fit, capable of physical exertion. You will also be beautiful, but your beauty will speak to sorrow or creativity, rather than mere youth or dumb luck. Probably you're in a relationship with a perfectly serviceable young man who treats you delightfully, but leaves you craving that sharp prick of the vampire's teeth on your neck. You will be carnal in your desires; by their wounds shall you be healed. You will reserve your deepest scorn for people who are so hopelessly gauche as to take received morality seriously.
What happens next?
You get in touch with me; we quickly establish there's a mutual attraction and we set up a meeting. You'll be nervous; I won't. I will be so conversationally engaging that you'd take notes if you weren't laughing so much. Somewhere around the third drink I will go to whisper something in your ear, but instead we will kiss, and that warm feeling in your sex will tell you that this is what you wanted from the very beginning. After that? Who the fuck knows. Maybe we retire somewhere to other business, maybe we never see each other again, maybe we grow wings and fly to the moon. It doesn't matter; that's what the day is designed to decide. But it won't decide it for itself.
Talk to me. Be interesting, be intelligent, be beautiful on every dimension of beauty you have. I certainly will be.
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