Yesterday I was shallow, today I'm good with that. I'm not holding it against myself. But I have been thinking a lot about the power of the imagination and all the things we think we want or need from another person especially if we have an agenda, like getting laid. But the secret life of the mind can be your worst enemy by giving you a certain type you find attractive. It could be a scent. It could be the shape of an ass. But there's something there and you can't deny it or ignore it. And if it's missing, you can't pretend or wish or want and make it so. Maybe it is just pheromones. Maybe it is that simple. Truth is when Tom and I were together I used to breathe in the scent of him in his just vacated pillow or hold a T-shirt he'd worn to my face and breath in his smell. I did once follow an old man down a San Francisco street for blocks because he smelled good. Is this shallow? Is this something hardwired? An early imprint that stays forever? What ever it is it's your ideal:
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