Thursday, July 14, 2005
Eventuality came inevitably - returning to the same old subject of our affectional lives. We stand in the same boat. Albeit, of various causes - for you, the possibility of not finding the right one in the right frame of time; me, the sudden fatigue in getting to know someone new all over again. Well, as dissimilar the causes might be, I see the same fundamental problem rocking our perch. A perch that will only grow increasingly precarious into an unclear future.
"What if you really cannot find the significant other by age thirty," you wonder aloud as we muse by the park.
Quiescence for a parsec, incommunicado for a blip.
Before I say, half in jest, that a contract still holds true. Age? Thirty-five, where our youth, and search, end.
Such are the candidly quirky reflections of a clapped-out gender-blind pair.

