Otherworldly

I am sorry that my past few posts have been so bleak instead of oblique. Things are really not that bad if one can pretend that things are better. I am experimenting with new forms of eye contact. Gazing right through the eyes and straight to the soul. It’s quite a change from aversion. So far, people seem to be responding well. They are nicer at work (that might have something to do with sympathy for my recent bout of pneumonia). For some reason, I am getting “liked” on the 400 dating sites where I have profiles. I’m getting more likes on facebook and Instagram. My sister and brother-in-law send me pastries. My mother asks if there is anything she can do for me. Plus Senator Diane Feinstein just subverted the republicans. That was a moment of refreshment from Trump bleakness.

But back to these dating sites, I am not sure how Tinder is supposed to work. When someone has swiped right on my photo, I have no idea what to say. This is different than normal conversation where I have nothing to say. The first few times I sent a message, “Thanks for the swipe. It is mutual,” which did not lead to a response. I tried the “I’m a newbie and not quite sure how this works” line which did not lead to a response. I googled “how to respond to right swipes on Tinder” and found some sort of advice column where the author suggested using the line, “There h/she is!” Now if someone ever said that to me, I would try to stay as far away from that person as I possibly could. Far far away. And it seems creepy to just jumping into “hey, let’s meet up! What are you doing NOW?” I know there are people who can do that. Even if I could, would I want to? Would that be wise? I have no idea.

These are vexing first-world problems. Not even first world problems. More like non-world problems. I could say that about any of my problems. They are not of this world. They are otherworldly.

This one Tinder person just answered my pretend confident message. I wrote “Thanks for the swipe. You have amazing eyes.” And she wrote back, “Thank you. I am new to Boston by way of St. Louis.” To which I responded, “Welcome to Boston. How do you like it here? You look so sad. Your eyes look so sad. Sad eyes can be amazing.” It’s true. Sad eyes are the best. I would trust a sad-eyed person far more than a non-sad-eyed person.

I am not quite sure what I am doing on Tinder or any of the other sites because (truth be told), I have a fear of people getting to know me. Because of the fear that they will not like what they see. So what is the point of pursuing any kind of relationship except to prove that my delusional thinking has no shortage of delusions.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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