The way to a man’s heart is through is stomach. If I had shilling for every time I heard that one said I would be a thousandaire (well I doubt I have had it say a million times.) Maybe I wouldn’t even be a thuosandaire because I would use the money as soon as I got it. Anyway digression is becoming second nature to me. Recently I have been the victim of a tirade of advice on how to pick up women and what I should like and dislike (I guess it comes with hanging out with my aunts and other non male relatives). It got me thinking. What really gets to me?
I’m probably the most complicated guy you will ever meet or hear about but from my complication stems a very simple concept. I fall in love with minds (or limerance or whatever you may call it. See here). That is it. That is what gets to me. I see that lady and as opposed to viewing her curves and all I see her minds. This just doesn’t apply to ladies. Every single person that I hold in high esteem has some sort or the other of a beautiful mind. I like to see someone and watch their eyes concentrate as their mind tries to wrap itself around a concept.
It is just beautiful when a person gets me thinking. When someone gets ye younge cogs spinning (Using that line feels like déjà vu I feel like I have used it somewhere) I love it a lot. Yet so much more in the media, in the streets we seem to be condemning witty, or even half witted, conversation. We seem to laud ourselves on being dumb and those that honestly seek knowledge are geeks, outcasts so to speak. Well I am proud of being one and if I’m not one yet then I strive to be one. I want to have mind blasting, min numbing conversations to stimulate brain cells and exchange ideas but hey, to each his own right? The wise men of the vast and shuddered ages (compositions in primary school had such statements) once said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well the way to mine is through my mind but all this talk of stomachs is making me hungry…
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