Although I don’t remember how it’s done, I advocate flirting in all its forms. Connect and connect. That you like someone and try to like them. When you notice her gaze, approach her to smell her, smile, touch your hand, step on your toe, or decide when to make it clear that her presence is important to you. What’s hard, and even harder at certain ages, is finding the moment and person to start that gear. “Fast dating” started to take place among the offers of applications and initiatives that facilitate the emergence of chemistry. It’s a face-to-face dynamic that lasts no more than an hour and a half, in which people fed up with virtual environments return to the gore-live spaces and spend eight minutes exploring possible affinities. If the chemistry comes up, the organization puts them in touch and from there Castilla expands. The beginning may be delusional and forced, but anything that ends well is good.
At the same time every morning on the radio, a journalist introduces a lady promoting the advantages of shopping in a department store. The journalist is on the air, the ad is being recorded. He greets us every day with the same tone of voice and sells us wonderful weeks in the same enthusiastic tone. The journalist’s process of saying good morning to that recording is imposed, but tradition allows us to assume this fiction.
While smoking (the greatest success is quitting), I got used to hearing the machine thanking me for buying tobacco. I once replied “welcome”. I also interacted with the mechanical noise of the gas pump. As soon as he notifies me that I’ve super-refueled, I respond by saying I already know. I even thanked him for reminding me one day. I know people who often chat with Siri. There are no utilitarian “Call Momma” conversations, but there are deep, hedonistic conversations like “Hey Siri, say something to amuse me”. And then that thought-provoking voice spits out one of its witty one-lines built by super-smart smart engineers. Evolution and technology are lame, but the picture is ridiculous. How ridiculous I feel when I attend some virtual fitness class where monitors try to exaggerately lift my spirits. I rode a bike the other day without going any further, and a boy in beautiful tights broke the fourth wall and motivated me by saying that he was with me in that fight, that he was proud of my effort in this tough fight. He said he even knew I was thinking about stretching and leaving, but he liked the rhythm and harmony of the team he was training with. I guess it was because I was alone in the room, but there I felt that the editing had gone too far. I felt like the little girl sitting in front of the TV combing her hair, wearing a headband and putting on lipstick because she thought the presenters were watching her on the screen. His innocence tendered his behavior. It is ridiculous that we are so dependent on technological fictions. We better flirt.
Source: Informacion
Barbara Dickson is a seasoned writer for “Social Bites”. She keeps readers informed on the latest news and trends, providing in-depth coverage and analysis on a variety of topics.