SIMILAR PEOPLE
on 377 reviews
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SimonOffline
Man. 26 years old. Zodiac sign: Gemini.
Looking for: woman. In age: 18-25
*** lets talk? 🤔 simonpiil15
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MillardOnline
Man. 29 years old. Zodiac sign: Cancer.
Looking for: woman. In age: 26-36
I'm a man who enjoys some high- I dig plucking my stringed ***, going to shows, reading & writing, going to the gym, browsing at the bookstore/library (nerd alert!), going out to eat, various outdoor activities. Right now I'm working and going to school.Also, I'm a member of this club, but... I'm not supposed to talk about it.I joke around a lot, but I can also be serious. I admire honesty and try to practice it always. I have a spiritual side, but I'm mostly just down to earth. (by the way, if "earth" were a verb, I'd be TOTALLY down to earth, bro!). Always interested in learning and trying new things. Not easily offended. I appreciate cute animals... but, uh... not to the extent that my manliness is compromised! ::flex::And of course, as we all know, an internet profile is not a proper substitute for getting to know somebody (don't think you've got me pegged yet, Peggerton McAssumesalot!) So send me a message. The worst that could happen is your keyboard explodes. Talk, laugh, do something fun, and top if off with a big, nearly fatal bearhug.
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SydneyOnline
Man. 27 years old. Zodiac sign: Pisces.
Looking for: woman. In age: 24-34
;dirty south". I really don't know what to say here so, for now, I will post some of my writing:Paper Boats and Sewage DrainsI guess there's not alot to say here, just words sent out on a paper boat. Watch it go down the street, carried by the stream from last night's rain fall. If you would ask me what I would do if I founds a home, I would tell you that I would keep moving. There are those that a road is a home to them. What hell that must be. Paper boats and sewage drains. He sat in the boat, clutching the whiskey by the neck Chugging away at it's soul he was surrounded by the nude bodies of women he knew. They swam around in the dirt and rain water on the street. He wondered if their momentum carried the boat faster. He slumped downward resting his back on the crumbling surface, and looked to the sky. It was a good day, the sun could be seen. Careful not to blind himself, he looked around his surroundings. People walked down the street, they paid no attention. A mother, a friend, teachers. They all were teachers. He too comfort in the chaos. He looked over paper edges and saw the sewage grate coming. He stood tall, and began to empty the bottle. Further and further the liqour entered his system. Enough so that the consequences seemed irrelevant.Drink and drink even further. He did so until he felt the boat spiral, but his eyes were shut tightly as he felt the burning of whiskey on his throat. A child, blonde with round cheeks, sat on the street curb watching this occurence while her mother had a hand on her shoulder. The child looked on with wonder while the mother was apathetic. She knew it would happen eventually. He was lost in the water finally letting go of the bottle. He sunk deep down, The last thing he saw was the bottle bobing up and down at the surface. A tombtstone at sea.No More Cold Shackles On Your Feet.Just a few more mornings without an albatross. No more words. Put it back in the bottle and hurtle it to sea, with no land in sight. No more lost waves, it will sit idle in the middle of that ocean. The waves, they no longer curve for you. The bottle stands upright, proud and tall, from the water, serving as a warning to the sailors. “Turn around,” it whispers into the wind,” You may lack the constitution to brave the waves.” I’m coming around. Taking into consideration that school of thought, it may be easier, but not the best. I usually prefer coffee and conversation. Isn't that what it is supposed to be?