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"There' ain't nothin' an ol' man can do but bring me a message from a young one." -Jackie "Moms" Mabley Madison Avenue at Library Way/E. 41st Street, NYC
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Reminiscent of a mysterious figure from 'The Edge of Night,' the runner appeared to be the most muscular of the group. Noticing he was under observation, he paused, simply standing there, breathing deeply and flexing his muscles. The number of times I've come across his distinctly masculine aura escapes me... Human nature and in-person attraction are as complex and mysterious as a New York subway map. It's a mix of biology, like the major histocompatibility complex making us swoon for someone with just the right immune system genes, and psychology, where we're drawn to people who remind us of our first crush or that one cool uncle or cousin we secretly fantasized about.
The brain chemicals that make us feel like we've just won the lottery when we catch someone's eye. So, while online interactions can feel as flat as a pixelated pizza, the real deal is more like a New York slice—messy, unpredictable, and undeniably real. And yes, New York's allure? Always sizzling, just like its sidewalks. There is no place else. There he was, strolling down the path: quiet, lost in thought with his dog, and strikingly attractive – the epitome of our ideal. It was at that moment we understood we had a preference. That somehow, they all seemed indistinguishable from beginning to end...
In the City of Runners, there's always one runner who captures attention. The one who leaves an impression on the photographer, whose style and appearance inspire. Adorned in bright neon green running shoes and snug baby blue shorts with white trims, he's a delightful sight to behold. Life's beauty indeed lies in its variety; what tickles one person's fancy might not even register for another. It's like a buffet of desires and interests, where everyone gets to fill their plate with what delights them the most. And for some, it's the open-air display of athleticism in New York's parks, where the city's men unintentionally turn a casual workout into a flex-off competition. It's a smorgasbord of biceps and triceps under the Big Apple's sky—no tickets needed, just a park bench and the will to people-watch. As late summer approaches before the beauty of Autumn (our season) begins September 22, the Scorpio-born man finds a time of greater connection and fulfillment. The pursuit has been victorious.
New York City, the unofficial treadmill of the world, where the marathon doesn't wait for November—it's every day! Here, you'll find runners of every variety, sprinting past skyscrapers, dodging tourists, and racing the sunrise. They come in every model imaginable: from the 'I'm-late-for-a-meeting' dashers to the 'let's-catch-that-ice-cream-truck' sprinters. It's the city that never sleeps, because everyone's too busy running! It's no surprise that I adore New York. The city is teeming with diverse men, each nearing perfection, all with open minds. |
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CHARLES PEARSON Archives
April 2025
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