The learning in the exchange of questions is very rapid. It's like playing Russian roulette—any piece of information could be the end of it all. My approach is much slower, more compact, and constructed in paragraphs, like this one. Poetic prose helps me solidify and share my ideas. Since we exchanged messages for an hour yesterday, I don't mind spending another moment writing for myself today, here, in a timeless place, even if I share it with you, the origin of some thoughts. This isn't romanticism; don't mistake me for someone persistent. We are different, that's clear, but I enjoy giving you something extra, a bonus because you're intelligent, above average, I would say, and surely you've been educated in private universities with crucifixes. The vector is clear. All the profiles I see are clones, there are hundreds of them, and many are almost identical, like an infinite army of tattooed women with a slightly exaggerated cleavage on the beach. Many are in their plastic sunset. That's how it is. There are exceptions. Those are the ones that interest me. You're one of them. Your height is your bait, and your photos are normal; that's novelty enough. Taking a big leap, notes are free; we all need something, someone who provides us with security or affection, flavor or love, a gaze or a body, conversation or attention, care or time. The key is differentiation. The distinction, the French would say. Let it not be a generic product. We search, and I use the plural to include you; maybe it's audacious. The person we want to accompany us must be very brave, very authentic, very dynamic, very intelligent, and also very cautious—a person who resolves everything, who balances us. Who receives our existential battering, loves it, devours it, and returns light to us, returns the flowers. That's what I seek; without that, I have nothing because for real intensities, I have no rivals, I know that, the rest are speculators from the low neighborhoods of love. The cradle doesn't matter. That's what I hope for—my partner to be very intuitive about what I need and give me my deserved affection in every way possible, to embrace the new and forget the obvious. To be extremely creative in the use of words and the body in general. It's not so easy. Making vital geometries tangent is not possible after a certain age when complexity crystallizes. Animism is another brutal agent, and past forms can be shadows. I don't like anyone filling my today with the past unless it's beautiful; then, evoke it. But not the crap—leave it behind because we don't need burdens. What I'm getting at is I don't think I'm looking for anything in particular. Of course, my black and white avatar and my flowers are a filter so that no one with an antagonistic sensitivity knocks on my door. I ignore cleavages, tattoos, corporate lives, hippies, snobs, and vans. I don't like to waste my time for no reason; my time is infinitely valuable; it composes and constructs me. But I'm taking a risk these days. What I'm writing to you is for me, though also for you, for asking me if my house was beautiful. It's true that I'm seeking some adventure, something new to break my routine. I would like to have a new love; I know that, it's very basic, very difficult, and at the same time, I like knowing that it will happen, it's necessary. I conclude these lines while having a glass of red wine and listening to old Japanese music in the courtyard; the light is fading. The police cordoned off the neighborhood today. The evening carries me away, and I bid you farewell, curious woman of high flights and complex domesticity. Perhaps your best asset is frontal dissection, but one must also know how to move sideways and dance gently. I hope the guy who complements you appears and says beautiful things to you, and you rebut each one until you're tired and finally tell him you're having a great time. Receive a warm greeting; we will surely cross paths in some gallery in the future, and I'll recognize you because our eyes are at the same height. I like questions that take me out of my comfort zone. They make me think.
