The things I enjoy are subtle. I enjoy the coolness of bottled water and of summer dawns. I enjoy efficient words and the precise demarcation of the states of the soul in unpretentious terms. I enjoy a wistful mise en scène and watered down soda. I admit that my pleasures, the things that I instinctually seek out in life, are abstract and solitary. I enjoy explaining myself and the things that are important to me to girls.

The only thing that I feel makes me unique is a constant awareness of the tendency for people to make assumptions. People make assumptions about the importance of things. They assume things have value yet they do not always know what gives those things value. People assume that things ought to be a particular way without explaining why we really have to desire anything at all. I am aware of this and I do not feel the need to assume that our emotions, our lives, are important. I presume things as they are convenient for me. I live my life doing what comes naturally to me (lacking any ability to wholly circumvent human nature) yet I cannot fully explain why we should really do anything. Every attempt ends up with the question as to why we should care about the thing that we have cited as a reason. So I live my life in the absurd condition of doing things without justifying my actions in the belief that it is impossible to truly vindicate oneself for lack of any standard against which to judge oneself.

I do not imagine that many people would like me. I am brusque with people who do not interest me, people whose tastes and beliefs are mere paltry shadows of society's propagation. As I am, I do not value many of the things that other people value, causing me to become at loss when people expect things of me that would never consider. People look at me strangely, and, just as often, they are inscrutable to me. I do not think I am very handsome either. I do not feel the need to believe people who tell me otherwise.

And I do not generally like other people. I find people to be profoundly similar. Most of how people differentiate themselves is mere incidental, arbitrary preference. The reason why this does not satisfy me is because experiences and preferences and all the insignificant things that people say about themselves is not anything that they, themselves, have consciously decided. It came to them. They accepted it. People are ultimately passive about their existence, liking things because they are apt to and accepting human emotion as the ultimate standard of their lives. They think they are entitled to things, that they are entitled to feel a certain way if only they knew how, if only they knew the right person. But what bothers me is that people are unconscious of this entire process. People can barely see their own lives except in reflections and in other people's words. At the very least, I can say that I truly see myself as I live my own miserable life, although it is not significantly different from any other life.

What I desire is a girl who is at the same time on the inside and the outside. Because you have to retain the essential human empathy to live. But I want someone who is also on the outside of things, who can be here with me that I can show her all the things I see. We will sit on the edge of human consciousness and dip our toes into the cool, tumultuous swirls of human passion and talk about how beautiful the colors are. I would tell you that beauty is only what follows the sublime, as prayers come after folly. And you would show me things that make me love you.