Focused

The heat had to be cut through as I walked through the city today. There were gorgeous women all around and I looked, but it was more out of habit than any actual feeling.



When one gets older, the only thing one wants to feel is air conditioning.



There will be gorgeous women later, and I know I’ll be staring at a wall then. We’ll be in a bar or something and I just won’t care except to remark “wow, she looks good” at some nameless person, to confirm the impression on the eyes. It won’t mean anything. The looks will never correspond with a personality, for I won’t talk to her, and that’s fine, because she more than likely wants nothing to do with me.



And it is better this way, far better. I have nothing to offer, and I don’t know that what some might consider I can offer can be appreciated by many my age. I have to get the dissertation done, and while that’s being done, work on a book and articles. The latter activities will be the proof of whether I can handle a serious crowd or not.



So far, I can’t really handle one, but I don’t know if I’ve ever been around one except for my immediate friends, of whom only one is female. She’s very serious about many things, and it is mainly her and my other friends’ faith in me that keep me from being discouraged. There are better people out there – I know that because I know some of them.





Powered by ScribeFire.

Leave a Comment