If only they were butterflies

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This is the life. The life of an online dating aficionado. If only I could go back in time, how many connections and conversations I could have started. How many winks and smiles and drinks to drain the ennui away. And I am getting old and people around me are slowly languishing. All I am thinking about is virtually fucking my next date before my Faceapp wrinkles start taking control of my real face.

My hormones want more but my nostrils sniff the pheromones away. All the better for it. 

Let’s navigate together through a sea of ones and zeros. Let’s make away with our sweat and cherry-picking fingertips.

You couldn’t kill a fly, let alone unzip my flies. Take care, love, yeah? With this, adieu! And forever bless you. 

Here I am again, playing the online dating game. As if I hadn’t had enough with the advice from my beloved Selfie Girl Down Under

So here I am again, swiping left and swiping right, and all I can hear is the cheer of my fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

The sheer madness of banal understanding.

Fly #14

Victor, 36 years old, 3 km away.

I like reading, photography and taking my dog for walks. 

Series junkie.

Boring.

Average height. 

Promising intro.

“Hi, Victor! Boring and average height! I love it.

What series are you watching these days?”

“Hi, Nina! Lately, I have been watching “Easy”, it is about sexuality in the thirty to fifty age range. Well, not too bad, not too many episodes. 

And yeah, I am indeed boring. Whenever I can I just sit there doing nothing. Quite understated these days. But I can’t get enough of it. Guilty as charged.

As for my height – I described it as average but I should have said quite short, as I am roughly 1’70. This has been traumatising me for months. Thing is, it never bothered me before.

Anyway, my height has never deprived me of getting to places.

That’s enough from me. How is it going?”

“Well as they say. Good things come in small packages.

I quite liked Easy, even though I only watched the very first season (there are three of them?)

A while back I went into a series frenzy and I just needed some detox. Lately, I am coming back to it, slowly, sensibly, with the fragile moderation of an ex-addict. The most recent one I’ve watched is Fleabag. Simply brilliant stuff. 

Series aside, I do this and that. And right now, trying to see this heatwave through, as I believe you must be too, 3 km away from me as you are. Wanna join forces? There should be a swimming pool nearby”. 

So here I am again, swiping left and swiping right, and all I can hear is the cheer of my fingers tapping away at the keyboard. 

The sheer madness of banal understanding.

“Toc-Toc. You there?”

Let’s navigate together through a sea of ones and zeros. Let’s make away with our sweat and cherry-picking fingertips.

“Hey, are you sure you didn’t take your doing nothing too far?”

Online dating radio silence.

This is the life. The life of an online dating aficionado. If only I could go back in time, how many connections and conversations I could have deleted.

Fly specimen #14, Time of Death, 10 pm, CET. August 2nd.

If only they were butterflies.

The Author

Woman. Floaty. Attached. Dettached. Sudden. Note-scribbler. Citizen of the world. Travelling to the moon and back.

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