choice as a trap.

That the girl is beautiful makes no difference to the actual lived experience with her as a live-in partner, husband and such. A myth or a maaya (philosophical) that makes men commit to the present without bothering about the consequences. A biological trap where the contours of the female body makes the man feel alive through instincts and endorphins (perhaps?) and on this the tune for a long term commitment is set. 

This is a pattern. I will be enamored with the features of an iphone 17 pro and compare it with an android equivalent (probably the xiaomi 17 that's launching soon) and desire either of them.

But in reality I have an 6 month old phone that's working good and will last another 1.5 year at least.

I can spend the money and get any of the new phones out of curiosity, convincing myself that 'life is to be lived, blah blah' but the underlying truth is that there is going to be no difference between the lived experience with any of the three phones. 

Realizing the puppet strings of the body only to realize again that it's still being played by the strings of the mind, the intellectual self. 

For a long long time, I was under the illusion that I can enter a relationship with a woman based on intellectual compatibility. This is only a rewording of the same experience; only the reason to enter it can change, as Kierkegaard said.. 'to live first and write the script from the future, looking backward'. I am only writing the script first and to follow the same pattern. How much ever I convince myself (and the other person) that this isn't about sex but a romanticized version of the mind's connection, like the satellite orbiting gargantua, the pull of the gravity will overpower the will of the mind and get drawn into the typical man-woman dynamic. It will be the man's movie where I assume, imagine and portray a version of reality that's comforting for myself and the actual reality or the narration from the other side would be much different.  

Women generally put up with this intellectual side of me for a while and beyond a point they give up. Understandable; so no point lamenting about it. What I seek isn't justified from the other side's point of view. 

For the sake of art of language, for the vivid imagination and for the intellectual self's desire for an intellectual companionship: I would want to be hopeful that there is a woman out there and to keep that romanticist alive to avoid the black & white analytical mind taking over the entire narrative. 

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