An image speaks volumes. And the photos I've seen...Some thoughts...

It speaks volumes to me if in your main photo you are wearing sun glasses. I'd love to see your eyes. It may be cliche, but the eyes are truly the window to the soul. 

It also speaks volumes to me if you are a mile away in your main photo. Or your head is turned so I can't see your face. Or you and six friends are in the photo. 

I encourage you to put yourself out there, warts and all for the world to see. I know it feels risky. But the greatest challenge in life is to risk vulnerability, which is hard enough in a relationship. A good place to practice in in your photos. 

Another pet peeve of mine is when I'm in the middle of an IM chat with a woman, and, in almost mid-sentence, she logs out. To me, that's the equivalent of being on the phone and hanging up without some sort of closing, like "I've got to go," or "nice chatting with you" which seem appropriate. Maybe it's just me, but I am aware that there is a real life person on the other end, even though I'm on my computer and I am only seeing words. 

It happened again tonight and it has happened many times before. I hope all this technology isn't causing us to lose our humanity. It's the little niceties that we show towards each other that make the day that much more pleasurable. 

I hate to sound like a scolding parent. That's not my message. My hope is that we show respect to each other in this virtual world, no matter how unattractive, strange, or single-syllabled the person on the other end may be. 

 

I fascinated with the non-responses I get from the majority of women I contact here. I've been trying my best to acknowledge everyone who emails me, even when I am not interested. I send a respectful message saying "thanks. But I'll have to pass. Best of luck." I've heard from some women that responding can sometimes elicit angry responses from guys, and therefore they just don't respond to those they are not attracted to. 

My attitude is that we are all here searching for the same thing: companionship in some form. And that deserves my respect. If someone who I have turned down responds with anger, I know I have been respectful. I don't let their anger negate my respect. I hope those of you who read this may act similarly. 

Can ya believe it? These two made me laugh the hardest out of all the

old people I've interviewed. And there have been many! 

First look at my web site to see what I do. www.longstoryshort.com

Then check out these sisters.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cWAPy6dBQM

Pardon me if I seem to cop an attitude

But the attitude is one of worship

And is, I think, sincere.

My heart swells

against the prison of my ribs

And grows to keep my lungs from seeking air.

Still the breath is not pushed out

By such a simple force as pride

But by the glory of my dreaming

That I might, perhaps, be loved

By you.

 

Pardon me if I'm moved to endless chatter

But I fear that the beauty of the silence,

As I watch your distant eyes

Caress the words I have arranged

As atonement, on the page, as sacrifice,

Might cause my soul to rise

Above this flesh

And leave inert these hands

With which I spell these prayers

Against your thighs.

 

Pardon me;

I burden you with too much honour.

I know you are no goddess,

Simply human,

Still alive.

The others who I prayed would love me

Ran,

Or else I was the one to run.

And yet their cracked reflections

Howl to me from pools of molten glass

Within my hidden pantheon.

I know you've missed perfection,

But your quirks and flaws

Are not personal betrayals,

But are the marks left

By the kiss of angels,

Allowing you to live within

This far too real world.

 

Pardon me if these songs of praise defile you

But I'll try to keep my hosannahs

To a quiet whisper,

And try, as I stroke your face,

Not to inscribe the Holy Name upon your brow,

Not to believe that you are both

Creator and Creation

And that you, therefore,

Must obey my will.

For as I rest

My head upon your shoulder

My lips against your throat,

I read your pulse as the rhythm

Of the rushing of the waves,

Your breaths as the passage

Of clouds against a bright and empty sky,

The gentle motion of your breasts

As the soft processional of continents,

As, within this dark and silent world,

We define

A temporary world of our own.

 

 

Joseph Zitt - Psalm 183

 

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, or how you came to be here- I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.