Once, someone called me a brutal dictator of my own mind. It was the greatest compliment.
How to say this kindly: if you're happy all the time, not your kind of guy. Emotions... you need more. Also, if you answered "they are both equally bad" or "abused animals" to the which is worse question... swipe left. Er, close the browser. Move on. Your comparison of a dog to a human child is sickening. Seek help.
"Sometimes, you have to run. Not out of fear, desperation, or even happiness. Monster at your back or no, the feeling builds until you're already doing it, feet bleeding as the horizon gets closer and closer.
And there goes my lover, driving by, one eye on the road and the other with a glint that says 'you know we had a car, right?' Hopefully, she slows down enough so I only feel half stupid."
Showers, biology, physics, the Singularity, lazy days, water, vegetables, damn good wine, driving, sleeping strange hours, horror films, interior design, computers, cheesy romances, getting really angry when I stub my toe, long nights, books, books, books, history, fashion, Manhattan, Classical Greek Cynicism, the human condition, Catalina Island, zombies, science debates, sex and knowledge, weird food, equal rights, empathy, subtle glances, philosophical conflict, avoiding death, the list goes on. I wear suits... a lot.
I hate animals. No, really. Never been a fan. Own a horse ranch and rescue horses... and dogs... and a cat... and birds... turtles... look, animals piss me off. But, that's no excuse to treat them poorly. I take the same approach to other people, as well.
Travel-wise, I've been to every state on the East and West Coast, and every Western European country except Italy. I loathe Paris... much prefer London or Spanish towns, especially Toledo or Valencia. In the US, New York is fantastic, but I also have a deep love for the mountains in western North Carolina. Ask me about them, sometime.
As far as humor goes, I laugh at almost anything. Exceedingly dry sarcasm is at max, but, you know... sometimes a six year old with paint on their face can make me chuckle all day. My Briggs profile says I am an INTJ, but also says a lot of crap that isn't true and too broad to be of any use. There is a joke in there, for anyone paying attention.
Beneath my "I love Jesus" skin is a tattooed degenerate with a dark personality and a cynical disposition, always looking for a chance to cause subtle mayhem to the system. Which system? Not sure. It's 90% plotting, 9% execution, and 1% anarchy. But, seriously: my looks are purposely deceiving. I'm a pacifist with a mean streak, never afraid to lift someone up by the throat or defend my person; I abhor fighting, and having to see or be a part of violence depresses me to no end.
"Are you shitting me, Elsa?"
Things I consider facts:
-the only warfare is class warfare.
-a young child should have hair on the holidays. Screw cancer.
-"perspective" is just an excuse to be indecisive.
-giving a **** is the most important thing you can do.
-the throat and abs are sexy.
-crying is for happiness.
-it is not okay to compare anyone to Hitler. Stop it.
-we all have secrets.
I dunno, mildly excite me with something other than bungie jumping or sky diving. Tell me to shut up and get on the plane, 'cus we got places to go (metaphorically or literally).
I have a profit job and a passion job, both of which I manage to keep from interfering with my personal life. I am a professional archivist, among other things, specializing in (mostly) French manuscripts. Let's talk uncial, baby.
"We are digital archives of the African Pliocene, even of Devonian seas; walking repositories of wisdom out of the old days. You could spend a lifetime reading in this ancient library and die unsated by the wonder of it."
Doing what I can for the exploited middle-class and the farmers who decided they were conservatives after the New Deal saved their livelihood. Having said that, inquiring about my charitable work will most likely get you a brick wall of ambiguity. It's a precedence thing.
"It's time to stop obsessing about overhead and start focusing on progress. Change charity, and charity can change the world."
In the past twelve months, gender rights (not just LGB) have been a bit of a sticking point. My intersectionalism is fucking pro.
Trolling white people.
I don't ski or snowboard. Saw a man take a rock to the face and that was it. So, have your fun, darling. I'll be at the bottom, having a drink, finding all the best places to hide in dark corners for dark deeds because I Know Someone Who Knows Someone. Avoid the rocks, okay?
Bungee jumping? I'm good, thanks. Throwing myself at the ground to get my jollies off sounds lame. I'd rather just... get off. Ditto for skydiving.
Anything I put my mind to, really.
Quoting the entirety of "You've Got Mail," "Love, Actually," or "That Thing You Do!" while building a computer, cooking a meal, and balancing my business spreadsheets.
Instant deadpan, making people figure out if I'm telling the truth or just being sarcastic.
Using the full emotional spectrum to my advantage.
Lying... er, "acting." Seriously. I fly a lot and every time I pretend to have some weird job.
Handing out copies of "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" to random parents with children and /not/ coming off like a creeper.
Books: all of them. "Hyperspace," by Michio Kaku, always brings me back. I read 3-5 books a week.
Movies: bit of a cinephile. Ask me, sometime.
Music: everything except country.
Food: I'm officially vegan, now. Don't care if my partner isn't. To be honest, I can probably grill a steak better than you. The only moment in the past year where I broke diet was while traveling. After not eating for eighteen hours, I finally had an egg and toast at the airport. It didn't end well. So... "mostly," in the sense that I'm not dumb enough to starve to death.
"There are those in every land, who would label it Communist, any threat to their privilege."
My brain is naturally reductive instead of constructive, which gets me into trouble. I fight that a lot.
How I could have Barbara Ehrenreich's babies. We could adopt, you saucy minx.
The amazing dream I had where an ex-lover and I are part of the one-way Mars mission and we have begrudging, hateful sex over oxidated sand and violent dust storms. And what going down on a woman in zero-g would be like. Factual statement.
Henry Bemis is an inspiration.
"Henry Bemis, now just a part of a smashed landscape, just a piece of the rubble, just a fragment of what man has deeded to himself."
I talk to myself at the grocery store and have a slight obsession with abyssal gigantism. Also, one side of my face is photogenically perfect, while the other half makes me look like a crack addict. It's really odd. My feet love hot asphalt.
It might not be clear, but writing is a secret passion.
When I'm old: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61R1xvR_GfE
The "c" word Is an egregious curse that is reserved for when I stub my toe. You'll know when it happens.
You understand Spanish is the only real romance language and all others can suck it. Solo un idiota puede ser totalmente feliz.
Also, if you know what's wrong with someone saying "we should clone a brontosaurus."
You agree with this: "Such a frightening dissonance when I see someone walk past a person in need but 'loves animals.' You just passed one. Higher primate, learns fast, known to develop life-long bonds and die for their friend. Might smell a little, but washes easily."
Some of the answers people type to the questionnaires are... disturbing on a very personal level.
You don't call grown men "boys." Refrain lest I call you a childish hipster fuckwit until told to leave.
If you got through this intelligence and basic human comprehension test and have the outright audacity to message me first (step out of your gender norm comfort zone). Don't "like" me, send me a question. Call me on some bullshit you don't agree with.
Congratulations, you've made it.
-if you caught the glaring inconsistency that no one has ever noticed-