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A man who has empathy, imagination, patience, passion and style was one day flicking through the internet as he ate his breakfast and came across this little gem of a website. After deciding to sink his fish hook, he mused over whether he should present a picture of himself, for he was handsome in a Mediterranean way, tall, strong, with features that many girls would find took their breath away. Then he decided against this, for only too often had he met girls only interested in his looks.
He pondered over whether he should decribe the wonderful job he had, for that job was really a unique and fascinating job, and he was sure many respondants would perhaps bite at this bait, but he met enough people who were intrigued to learn about this job.
He thought about detailing the wonderful apartment he lived in, in the leafy enclave of London where all the busy celebrities lived, but then wouldn't that in itself attract exactly the type of girl he was trying to avoid meeting?
He knew he should mention that he was moving to France in a few weeks, and that knowing no one he would love to find a pretty girl to spend time with.
And he chewed over the idea of mentioning all the wonderful things he would like to do with this girl he sought, like walking across the park in the pale winter sun, laughing over coffee in hidden little cafes, strolling through galleries talking about forgotten paintings, or even just watching each other's eyes over a glass of wine in the evening. But surely this girl might not like any of the above and perhaps not reply for that very reason; and wasn't life more about ensuring that whatever this girl wanted to do was taken into account?
And so, when he came to really think about what he wanted to display to this world of virtual women, he realised he was rather stuck. He very much wanted to meet a vivacious woman who would reflect the calm enthusiasm he approached life with, someone who would toy back if he gently teased her, someone who might challenge some of his views, someone who wouldn't leave him to drive things along, someone who knew how to dress and carry herself off in all the diverse situations they would find themselves, someone who knew what to take with her when he invited her away for the weekend, someone who would give themselves unconditionally as he always did, someone who simply skated over the bright ice of life, resisting nothing, with a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes.
Knowing the world with such familiarity, living with midfulness for the very moment in which he existed, he even had a vague suspicion that few would even realize they had stumbled across a rare gem when they did read his words. And so, he struck upon these words: If we make a loud sound where there are conditions for echoes, a loud sound will return to us; a quiet sound returns a quiet sound; and a strange cry comes back to us as a strange cry. The sound we hear returning is the sound we make, just as the content of life appears to be independent of us but is only the projected content of our mind returning to us.
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