Radom thoughts are different than quotables cause…well…they’re random thoughts. Don’t know how to explain it any better. Have a look if you want! :)
Is stubborn, forcing us
To see, the precipice
We nearly miss, just to
Remind you and me,
That we’re never really
In control, not of this life,
Or even our very own choices,
And the illusion of control,
Is no more meaningful than
Making success the goal, as
We spin on our heals, faces
Glued to our various devices.
Having completed Tinder, OkCupid, Match and Bumble, I can honestly say I prefer GTA4.
The rules of the game are simple; “swipe until it’s empty”.
I have done that at “Boss” level. It’s not difficult. Just takes loads of time. Time I clearly had.
I have a whole method for efficient swiping… It’s tap tap tap… Swipe.
Any sedated tigers, chihuahuas, pouting, or loads of gym photos, or a guy’s name on seemingly a woman’s photos, or all serious photos with no smiles, swipe left.
The slightest possibility I might be attracted to them and they seem normal and their smile actually reaches their eyes, swipe right.
Works just as well as randomly swiping left and right with my eyes closed (I have tried it).
And you have to have lots of uncomfortable chats where you try way too hard to be charming and funny – think pickup lines without the alcohol and background noise to distract from the utter awkwardness of it, a few slightly awkward dates (now video calls, which is the “advanced” level difficulty), and end up realising you can’t work out the most basic reason people are attracted to one another – that magical unknown quantity of “chemistry” – without actually meeting the person in person.
It is at that point that you “complete” the dating app.
And, just because we are creatures of habit, we then go try other dating apps, because maybe, just maybe, doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome is not the definition of insanity.
Once we have completed all available dating apps, and come to that same realisation time and again, with friends and strangers egging us on the whole time by dangling that “I have friends who met online and got married and are really happy” magical power up in front of us, do we officially “complete all levels” in the online dating game.
There is no winning. It is realising that we are simply confirming the uselessness of it all that means we have “leveled up”.
That is why it is called “gamifying”, or the “gamification” of, dating.
It’s a game, and the only ones to win are the companies that make money from us endlessly swiping.
So we get frustrated and delete the apps, only to return a few months later in desperation, hoping against hope that, somehow, this time it will be different.
For proof of this, just see how many profiles say, “I had deleted this app but I am back now hoping to delete it again…”
I think we need a “Dating Apps Anonymous” group.
We walk around,
Gated in our own internal world,
Oblivious to those around us,
Even as we see them; we don’t.
This life
A place we breathe in
And in breathing, we take
Out our own meaning,
And so we walk alone,
Forever wondering what the point is,
Why we bother,
only to be caught by bright eyes.
The young amongst us
Reminding us
Who we once we were
The beasts of our own heartbeat
Until the nothingness swallows us whole.
It hangs
Around
Inside
Like a
Noose
Around my neck,
Tightening
With every breath,
This life I lead, in and of myself
A lie,
No more than the premise
Of a human
Being
Nothing more
Than thin skin
Stretched taut
Over blood
And bones,
Heart pulsing
Fast or slow
No more matter
Than anything really mattered at all
And still I pretend
To be something I am not
More than nothing
Full of meaning
When I know it is all a lie
And the only truth –
Sweet moments of love
Escape
Stolen from perfect eyes,
Frozen moments of reality
Shivering
Like the child inside,
Lost
Alone,
Dancing to the edge
Eyes glint
Daring the night to steal my soul away
Yet still I breathe,
Still, in the silence humming between the
Shivering sliver silver crescendo in my ears,
No way to turn it off, just so –
Shattering silence
Louder the more I notice the background
Sibilants
Hissing
A great nothing fighting hum
Frozen behind the constant shattering
Of my eardrums
Explosions of ice-cold glass chimes,
Cutting my mind into a thousand pieces,
Hovering just outside my reason,
Like some horrific nightmare torture,
Always there, ever-present, never
Free.
Just breathe.
This is no
Mid-life crisis,
No crisis at all.
Instead, I feel
Empty
And calm,
No longer rolled tight
In a ball
Of stress, and strife,
Fighting for breath,
Yearning for more
Life.
And now
Is the stasis,
No more status quo
Of chasing, and running
With nowhere to go
But round, once more
Mad rush to the floor.
Still,
All is still
And quiet, inside
The voices of urgency
Crying loud, like seagull-screech
Deep in chest, they have left
Empty nest, neither squawking birds,
Nor baby chicks crying for food,
No up and down roller coaster,
Just slight shift in mood.
I go up, and down,
And back again,
Always the same,
Dearest of friends,
Round to call,
Yet not the same,
For underneath it all
Is something calm, leaves coating the ground
Multi-coloured nature’s blanket, unraked,
Unneeded, unnoticed, unheeded, but all of that’s
Just noise, background hum,
Sliced through by the tinnitus,
Sound of silence, constant
And when all’s said and done,
Cliche after cliche marching two-by-two,
This one is truer than that one,
My eyes are clearer than yours,
Money pouring from pockets opens doors
That don’t really matter.
Will I ever hear the little pitter-patter
Of un-padded feet?
Is that the aim of life,
Or something else entirely,
Something achingly deep,
Soulfully wide,
Scarringly bright,
That we carefully hide,
As if
To share
That one deep dark truth within,
Would be the greatest of fears realised,
Life’s ultimate sin,
Against ourselves,
Throbbing ache deep in gut,
Or just above,
As if the hole of lonely acceptance
No longer misses the love,
But instead resides – monkey-like –
In chest,
Never to be warmed by soft-armed vest,
The hug of a loved one
Momentary relief
Loves empty crater
Memory of happiness
Slightest of balms
For later, but now all we have
Is the roundabout thought,
The feeling of loss
That itself means nought,
Great empty divide
Basin invisible in the dark,
The playground from hell,
Broken reality,
Healing heart.
