I joined the fast one on a Tuesday and had eleven matches by Thursday, which after four months of reading and doing absolutely nothing felt like being pushed onto a stage. Every single conversation reached the same question by the second message. What are you. I do not know, and saying that out loud on a platform moving at that speed reads as evasion rather than as honesty.
Twenty six, Brooklyn, still working it out, six months in and nothing that lasted a week.
What I have understood since is that the speed does the labelling. When a conversation has three days before it dies of neglect, nobody can afford to be undecided inside it, so everybody grabs the nearest word and then defends it. Three times I used a word I did not mean, purely to keep somebody typing, and all three ended anyway and ended worse.
So I am writing at length somewhere nothing dies on a Thursday. What I think I want is to be given a structure by somebody and to find out whether that turns out to be the whole of it or the beginning of something larger.
Not looking for anybody who wants to tell me what I am after reading four sentences. Not looking to be a first project. And not looking to move at the speed of the other place, since that speed is precisely what I came over here to escape.