Nothing is forever but love is not a myth and not a "myth" like dry land in Waterworld but real like shoelaces that keep coming untied. A reminder on a night of heavy walking and light drinking, that even though we may have spent the night in an over-crowded bar with strangers all saying the same thing, we've found something that's seems to be "ours". Similar to the shirt that someone might find on the Venice boardwalk that 17 other people standing in the same line for the cashier are about to buy, but the feeling of "this one's mine" still exists. Call it an inability to secede to conformity or call it 'conformed' ignorance, but there's something peaceful in knowing you're just a number and no longer do you care. This was supposed to be a simple post about a failed Tinder date but it seemed to get more meta than I could have ever hoped, but just like the theme, I'll stay on this hand. So, there was a social media celebrity that contacted me via dating apparatus earlier in the week. She was quite nice over the messenger and once we escalated to formal textation I felt she had proper representation of her persona which had only beknownst to me based upon her pictures and her short bio. Now, you may be asking yourself how I could call her a "social celeb". Well, I seem to call just about any online person with over 20k followers or fans a "celeb". Not because I believe that's what constitutes celebrity, but rather, the fact that over 20k people would like to see what someone who looks remarkably not like their pictures in real life but also seems to fake their very "authentic" lifestyle (which shouldn't at all be surprising but for a dumb-drunk asshole like me... Well let's just say, about anything comes as a surprise). It's important to go out and meet people, they say. Online dating has become the norm. Loneliness is the business and business is a boomin'. No different than the rat with the cocaine button. It seems the new cocaine is "like" and it seems that I'm the rat. Damn.