Oh the wonderful world of dating.
It seems to be that everyone who's in a relationship misses being single, and everyone single misses having someone to love. Perhaps the general consensus is that we're destined to be unsatisfied either way. Always striving for something more. To feel whole.
And there's some people that get truly lucky and find someone that can be their best friend as well as their lover. Lucky, lucky bastards.
I'm in a perpetual state of being single. Sometimes I reach a point where I wonder if I should just settle. And then almost instantaneously I get the urge to slap myself, because why should I settle? I'm in no rush.
It's been so long since I've been excited over seeing another person that I'm starting to wonder if I ever felt excited about anyone at all.
I want to go far away and leave behind most of my possessions and have some south american shaman throw some magic sand on me. Or something.
Have some crazy revelation.
Because parts of me question all of this material bullshit that I treasure so much. I'm striving to have nice "things" for the future.
But what are things? Is it wrong to want an iphone because I can have the T-Pain autotune app? It must be wrong to have such a strange attachment to these bizarre human artifacts that hold no weight when we're gone.
Suppose I have a family in the future who gets a hold of these items and treasures them because I'm their ancestor. What about when they're gone? What about when we're all gone?
But who gives a shit? Who am I trying to satisfy?
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