SIMILAR PEOPLE
on 377 reviews
-
LindonOnline
Man. 30 years old. Zodiac sign: Gemini.
Looking for: woman. In age: 27-37
Easy going, Laid back, Go with the flow attitude.I like to be active and adventurous. I enjoy skydiving, hiking, kayaking, biking, traveling, concerts, coasters, and going to the gym. . . .
-
MickOnline
Man. 30 years old. Zodiac sign: Aries.
Looking for: woman. In age: 27-37
I want to be able to work all year round plus I was sick of being cold.I love music just listing at home or at a venue. I'm also learning the piano right now.I like sports watching and playing. I like movies too. I also enjoy carpentry work and landscaping I like being outside. But most important I'm lookin for someone I can have good conversations with. Good sence of humer and quick wit are qualities I like. Also if the girl has kids she has to be a good mother someone who puts there kids ahead of themselves. I have a great sence of humor I love to laugh. But I have to say I enjoy doing things for others more than myself. Family is also a big deal for me I come from a big family up north not immediate family.
-
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?