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Anna-Crane

28 M Brooklyn, NY

My Details

Last Online
Today – 11:59am
Orientation
Straight
Ethnicity
White
Height
5′ 11″ (1.80m)
Body Type
Fit
Diet
Strictly anything
Smokes
Trying to quit
Drinks
Socially
Drugs
Sometimes
Religion
Atheism, and laughing about it
Sign
Pisces
Education
Graduated from masters program
Job
Education
Income
$50,000–$60,000
Relationship Status
Single
Relationship Type
Offspring
Doesn’t have kids
Pets
Likes dogs and likes cats
Speaks
English (Fluently), Spanish (Okay)

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My self-summary
If Stephen Crane ever convinced Emily Dickinson to remove her undergarments and perform a sexual act of poetry - spawning the convergence of sperm, egg, and emotionally distant yet eternal love... 9 months later a baby would be born. AND if that baby grew up with a penchant for opiates and acid, cradling and conjecture, semantics and self examination... she would sound a lot like me, when she was silent.

Performance poet turned
Theatre maker turned
Disillusioned vagabond turned
3rd world volunteer turned
Dive bar house band front man turned
University lecturer turned
Penniless Playwright turned
1st world activist turned
Educator of 6 and 7 year olds.
What I’m doing with my life
Try Again.
Fail Better.
I've seen half the world.
Making plans to finish the adventure.
I’m really good at
"I am as elastic as the gas of gunpowder, and a sentence in a book, or a word dropped in conversation, setting free my fancy, and instantly my head is bathed with galaxies, and my feet tread the floor of the Pit. And this benefit is real, because I am entitled to these enlargements, and, once having passed the bounds, shall never again be quite the miserable pedant I was."
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Ask me.
Better yet, tell me yours.
The six things I could never do without
Fulfillment.
Despair.
Absolutely nothing in between.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
"We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts."
On a typical Friday night I am
Breathing through my nose.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No. I go for the chandelier; it's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I love the cold. Thirty years later I get a postcard. I have a son. And he's the Chief of Police. This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.
I’m looking for
  • Everybody
  • Ages 18–39
  • Near me
  • For new friends
You should message me if
Life is not meant to be a series of disappointments.
I knew that once, but it underwhelmed me and was quickly forgotten.

http://youtu.be/Qd6wgJqt9fo