I mean, a woman who has to keep her level of gorgeousness to a high standard, as she is on a hunt. The only way to get rid of them is, I hope, to share them. On one side, my love for writing, my desire for sharing my amazing thoughts and surreal anecdotes, the fact I have always identified myself with Carrie (no surname needed, if you are on my same wave length), but more importantly my need to find other people (mainly women) in my same (often shitty) situation, to know that I am not alone.
Of course he was saying it more elegantly, but that’s the gist.
We don’t even trust that love exists anymore because all we’re constantly met with disappointment.
Dating as a millennial is like being in an apocalypse of love — and it’s pretty fucked up.
And most of the time, sex doesn’t lead to a relationship — it leads to heartache, confusion and another one-night stand with the next person. There’s little gratitude for honest and happy emotions. Responding right away comes across as desperate and too available.
It’s amazing how millennials view the luxury of having instant access to communication as something we need to treat as if we’re still using carrier pigeons. Social media and thousands of dating profiles shoved in our faces leads us to believe we’re entitled a fairy tale life that doesn’t truly exist.
Sex is scarily available — we can have it simply with the swipe of a finger.