A couple of quick things that have been rolling around in my head for a bit:
Death. It strikes me as a chore. Like dishes or the laundry or cleaning up dog shit, it's something that I'll have to do some day. This notion has been working at me for some time through several experiences, but I think what's influenced it the most is the death of my grandfather from lung cancer in 1999. He never whined, complained, or looked scared. He had the look of a man who was doing an unpleasant job. Something like "so I gotta do this shit huh? Fuck." Because I know I have to die at some point, I hope I can go like him.
Love. Part of the equation seems to be imagination. I mean, think about that term "The woman/man of my dreams." I flirt with a lot of ladies and I'm good friends with many more, and I know that those of you who have seen pics of my beard will find this hard to believe, but I don't seem to be capturing anyone's imagination. I don't get the feeling that anyone is thinking about me when I'm not around. I'm not fantasized about much. I'm not strictly speaking about masturbation either. It may sound funny, but that would be the least important kind of fantasizing I'd want going on about me. I'm talking more about imagining me with our kids, imagining me taking care of things, or imagining life with me in old age. Capturing that fantasy isn't everything, but for a while now it's been striking me as important. I don't know that it's something that one can make happen on purpose, but I do know that it ain't happening right now for me.
On a lighter note, I just sat down for almost three hours catching up with quite possibly the cutest girl in all of existance. We had a few beers and chated about things. We haven't talked in 5 or 6 months so things rolled along pretty well. At one point she was telling me about a car air freshener that some one had given her and she forgot about it, and it stunk, so she holds open her bag and says "here Joe, smell my purse."
It's good to laugh.
Death. It strikes me as a chore. Like dishes or the laundry or cleaning up dog shit, it's something that I'll have to do some day. This notion has been working at me for some time through several experiences, but I think what's influenced it the most is the death of my grandfather from lung cancer in 1999. He never whined, complained, or looked scared. He had the look of a man who was doing an unpleasant job. Something like "so I gotta do this shit huh? Fuck." Because I know I have to die at some point, I hope I can go like him.
Love. Part of the equation seems to be imagination. I mean, think about that term "The woman/man of my dreams." I flirt with a lot of ladies and I'm good friends with many more, and I know that those of you who have seen pics of my beard will find this hard to believe, but I don't seem to be capturing anyone's imagination. I don't get the feeling that anyone is thinking about me when I'm not around. I'm not fantasized about much. I'm not strictly speaking about masturbation either. It may sound funny, but that would be the least important kind of fantasizing I'd want going on about me. I'm talking more about imagining me with our kids, imagining me taking care of things, or imagining life with me in old age. Capturing that fantasy isn't everything, but for a while now it's been striking me as important. I don't know that it's something that one can make happen on purpose, but I do know that it ain't happening right now for me.
On a lighter note, I just sat down for almost three hours catching up with quite possibly the cutest girl in all of existance. We had a few beers and chated about things. We haven't talked in 5 or 6 months so things rolled along pretty well. At one point she was telling me about a car air freshener that some one had given her and she forgot about it, and it stunk, so she holds open her bag and says "here Joe, smell my purse."
It's good to laugh.