Life is defined by shared experiences. I would rather go through hell with others, to find triumph on the other side, than live a quiet life of comfort on my own. I would rather live on the roller coaster, moving forward, than to spin aimlessly on the carousel.
A strong sapiosexual, I will be more turned on by a five hour meandering conversation on the Fermi Paradox, FiveThirtyEight’s latest forecast, film theory, sex/gender politics, sociopolitical philosophy, your favorite Star Trek character, and the prospects of this year’s Seahawks, than I will from seeing you naked (not to minimize the effect of the latter.)
I owe much of who I am to the influence of powerful women, people of color, and those who live far outside of traditional sexual or gender binaries. I try to be vigilantly aware of my own privilege, though I am far from perfect. I am interested in using my inherent abilities to take advantage of that privilege in such a way as to try strip its very existence away.
I have been found on stages and screens, behind cameras, in writers’ rooms, jumping from an airplane, in the middle of a play party, dressed in costume at conventions, selling shirts to a Kennedy, or embarked on cross country adventures. I have run off to Mexico with someone I first met two weeks before. I have taken on ambitious projects and succeeded and failed miserably. Tell me your stories.
I generally avoid labels, but am shades of: poly, kinky, liberal, sex-positive, feminist, nerdy, artistic, and intellectual.
I assure you, I am also fucking ridiculous.