I don't do a lot of dating. I guess it's kind of like everyone is

In the words of Matt Cohen, we find a quiet truth hidden beneath the veil of modern noise: “I don’t do a lot of dating. I guess it’s kind of like everyone is always trying to set me up with somebody, so we go out and hang out at a club or somewhere. I think dates are weird.” These words may seem simple, spoken as if offhand, yet they carry the weight of a generation adrift in the search for authentic connection. In this utterance, there echoes the weariness of one who sees through the ritual of social performance — the dance of pretending, the spectacle of expectation — and yearns instead for something real, unforced, and true. It is not a rejection of love, but rather a lament for the way love is often sought: in crowds, under lights, with masks firmly fixed upon the face.

In the ancient days, men and women met not by design of others but through the rhythm of shared living. They gathered around fires, in markets, in the toil of work and the celebration of harvests. Connection was born of presence, not arrangement. The philosopher Diogenes of Sinope, who lived in simplicity and truth, might have smiled at Cohen’s words. For Diogenes once wandered the streets of Athens with a lantern, declaring that he sought an “honest man.” So too does Cohen’s statement reveal the same quest — not for mere company, but for honesty amidst the façade of modern courtship. He does not despise dating; he despises pretense, the hollow motions of hearts that seek validation more than understanding.

There is a loneliness in these words, but also strength. To say “dates are weird” is to admit one’s discomfort with what society deems normal. Yet this discomfort is holy, for it is the sign of one who listens to the truth within. The wise of old would say: Better to walk alone on the path of sincerity than to feast in the hall of falseness. The courage to reject conformity is not coldness, but a deeper yearning for a love that grows slowly, like roots beneath the soil, unseen yet enduring. Cohen speaks for all those who find no peace in surface-level encounters — those who know that authentic love cannot be scheduled or staged.

Consider, if you will, the tale of Emperor Marcus Aurelius, philosopher and ruler of Rome. Surrounded by flatterers and arranged alliances, he found little solace in the gatherings of courtly life. His true companionship was with his own thoughts, his writings, and the few who shared his hunger for wisdom. Though his throne was surrounded by people, his heart longed for truth. He reminds us that solitude, when embraced rightly, is not emptiness but clarity. Like Cohen, he understood that the company of many may still leave the soul untouched, while one sincere conversation can fill it with light.

The quote also whispers of the artificiality of modern connection — how the sacred act of meeting another soul has been reduced to performance. Clubs, screens, curated images: these are the new masks of our time. When Cohen says “everyone is always trying to set me up”, it is as though he resists being traded like an object in the marketplace of affection. He yearns instead for something born of chance, of organic encounter, where one soul recognizes another not through convenience but through resonance. In this longing, we glimpse a universal human truth: that love must be discovered, not designed.

Thus, the lesson is clear. Seek not to impress, but to express. Be not so eager to be seen, but to truly see. When next you meet another, do not hide behind the rituals that the world calls romance — the noise, the posing, the chase for validation. Instead, meet with stillness. Speak with truth. Listen as if you were hearing a sacred song. For every genuine bond is a spark struck between honest hearts, and no amount of artifice can kindle such a flame.

If one would live wisely in this age of performance, let them practice presence over pretense, solitude over shallow company, and truth over trend. Love, in its highest form, is not found in the settings others arrange for us but in the quiet spaces where we dare to be real. And so the teaching of Matt Cohen — though spoken in jest — becomes a modern oracle: resist the noise, reject the false dance, and walk in authenticity. For only then can we find that which is not weird, but wonderfully human — the meeting of two souls, unmasked and unafraid.

In this way, Cohen’s words are not the musings of a reluctant dater, but the quiet declaration of one who seeks depth in a shallow world. And so, to those who listen with their hearts open, this quote becomes a call — not to withdraw from love, but to purify it. Let every encounter be sacred. Let every word be honest. And when you find yourself amidst the clamor of false connection, remember: the truest bond is not arranged, but awakened.