Needing a hand to hold as I cry through Mahler's 9th this November.
"Wow, I can't figure you out. Are you Italian/Greek/Mediterranean/Persian/Armenian/Arab/etc.?
No miss, I'm just Mexican.
I appreciate musicality; sounds over syllables, storytelling over (instant) satisfaction. Something layered and transposed over the course of a greater composition (or oeuvre) to the standard song form. I want to write music like this this, this, this, this y ésta. If it's not cool enough to play at my cafe, I probably like it.
That all said, I am dreadfully lacking in my consumption of all other media.
How boring I must be.
I also like to think about fun date ideas that probably won't get put into action anytime soon. Most are third date level.
I have a small collection of wristwatches. The silent symphony of their ticking alongside my fist-pumping good luck cat is often quite novel.
My absolutely least favorite phrase one can create with all of the English language is "that would be great." I cringe.
...you want to wander the West Oakland railyards by bike with me.
...your guideline to exploring is also "just go up."
...you are among the very few for whom Netflix binging is not referred to in your profile.
Or maybe you just want to say hello and tell me I'm full of it.