Pacificoclara: Let’s goooo
Basic:
18 year old Man, 6'2"(188 cm)
Seeking:
Woman, for Lets Hang Out / Chat / Friends
Ethnicity:
Caucasian
Body Type:
Average
Personality:
Athletic
City:
Profession:
Professional
Education:
Bachelors Degree
Religion:
Christian: Other Denomination or Non-Denominational
Misc:
Non-smoker, Drinks Regularly, No Drugs
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More Details:
Martial Status:
Single
Hair Color:
Brown
Eye Color:
Hazel
Longest Relationship:
Over 3 years
Second Language:
English
My Exercise Habits:
5+ Times Per Week
Has Children?
No
Want Children?
No
Has Pets?
Dog(s)
Has Car?
Yes
Political Views:
I Dont Follow Politics
Postal Zip Code Area:
80919, CO
About Me:
Streetlights hum while the evening drifts sideways through cracked sidewalks and quiet parking lots. Somewhere a radio plays a song nobody remembers the words to, yet everyone hums along anyway. A half-empty coffee cup sits on a dashboard, cooling fast, collecting thoughts that didn’t quite turn into plans. The air smells like rain even though the sky refuses to commit. Shoes scuff gravel, keys jingle, a phone buzzes and gets ignored on purpose.
Across town, laughter leaks out of an open window, bouncing off brick walls and fading before it reaches the corner. Time stretches, then snaps back, elastic and rude. A dog pulls on its leash, convinced destiny exists one mailbox ahead. Neon signs flicker like they’re tired of pretending. Conversations start strong, derail beautifully, and end with “we should do this again” meant halfway sincerely.
Clouds drift like unfinished ideas. Someone decides tomorrow will be different, not better, just different. The night nods in agreement. Pavement stays warm. The world keeps moving, quietly, whether or not anyone is ready.
Across town, laughter leaks out of an open window, bouncing off brick walls and fading before it reaches the corner. Time stretches, then snaps back, elastic and rude. A dog pulls on its leash, convinced destiny exists one mailbox ahead. Neon signs flicker like they’re tired of pretending. Conversations start strong, derail beautifully, and end with “we should do this again” meant halfway sincerely.
Clouds drift like unfinished ideas. Someone decides tomorrow will be different, not better, just different. The night nods in agreement. Pavement stays warm. The world keeps moving, quietly, whether or not anyone is ready.
My Ideal Match:
Here for a good time. I’m just vibing and looking to hang out and have a good time.
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