Oh and he lives in Hungary. I got this e-mail on one of the singles websites I am on.
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In 1983 I was installing ocean navigation equipment onto a yacht; kneeling 20 feet above its oily teak deck in the aluminum tuna tower, when the single side band antenna I held contacted the marina's power supply cable- its one century old insulation, weather-abused, broken. Just as 7,200 volts entered my right hand 7,200 volts exited both kneecaps. This conduction pushed me backwards off the tower; my chest smoldering pink flesh; my brain charred and comatose; my penis wounded; my life, stopped. Eleven minutes later a Greenbank, New Jersey, paramedic stabbed an insulin needle into my heart, restarted it. Two months after that chemical jump-start, I opened my eyes from coma's darkness, onto a shiny new world; everything different, everything the same. I had head-trauma. 'Head-Trauma'. What happens every time a person loses consciousness. The quantity of the frontal brain damage received moves in concert with the length of the coma. My coma lasted 59 days, on the cusp of permanent injury, which meant that although my reality reception, immediately afterwards, was completely skewed and whacked, it would be temporary.
I relearned to walk; I relearned to eat with a fork and use a knife; I relearned to speak without a stream of drool falling; I relearned to pee in a toilet bowl while standing, then, I moved on. I studied life. I learned when not to speak; I learned to eat life with a spoon; I learned to be humble. I married, I divorced.
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Twenty-one years hence I live in Hungary, next door to my wonderful seven year-old son. Presently, I seek a conversation with the Naropa University community in order to attune this Self more with contemplative education; in order to define my unconscious becoming conscious; in order to understand and expiate that; in order to reply, further, to the death knell once heard for me.
Who I am seeking
I seek a kind woman. I live in Hungary, mostly. Although I also have a residence in Southern New Jersey.
2 comments:
If only for the great story that goes along with dating this guy, I say give it a go (but hire some "security guards" from New York in case things get out of hand).
If a date is out of the question, at least ask him about the wounded penis; Is it Lorenna-Bobbitt wounded or needs-some-extra-help in-performing wounded?
Clearly, I am going to die alone if this is the kind of man that is out there. Oh wait. This is the Internet. Never mind.
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