I'm not going to sugarcoat, I'm pretty damn bitter. One of the reasons that I haven't been posting that much lately is that quite frankly, I don't think anybody gives a damn. Why should they? While I'm getting things done and trying not to slip, the world continues to turn, regardless of whether I turn with it or not. I've lost my senses. I don't even know what day of the week it is. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to get out of bed at all.
I'm a hypocrite. Then again, aren't we all? I turn my nose at those who raise glasses, but truthfully, a tiny part of me wants to be in that picture with one arm raising a glass and the other wrapped around a shoulder or two, reaching out for social acceptance. Yet by nature, I am the antimatter. Whatever goes, I go against it. Whatever is "in" is "out" to me. My eyes are overindulged while my mind craves stimulation. The Golden Mean has yet to be found.
That's the problem with people my age: We're far too wrapped-up in the physical form and being of things that it's difficult to discern who's got a little flavor and depth underneath it all and who's just running for the thrill of it. That leather jacket will only take you so far before it begins to wear out.
They say that hindsight is 20/20, but foresight is just as important. I want someone who can take a step back and see the big picture rather than acting on impulse alone. And at this point in the cycle, reality comes into view and slaps me in the face, and I begin to understand that not only must she possess intelligence and restraint and wit and all of these desirable, mature characteristics, but she has to look stunning as well.
I ask for too much.
I'm a hypocrite. Then again, aren't we all? I turn my nose at those who raise glasses, but truthfully, a tiny part of me wants to be in that picture with one arm raising a glass and the other wrapped around a shoulder or two, reaching out for social acceptance. Yet by nature, I am the antimatter. Whatever goes, I go against it. Whatever is "in" is "out" to me. My eyes are overindulged while my mind craves stimulation. The Golden Mean has yet to be found.
That's the problem with people my age: We're far too wrapped-up in the physical form and being of things that it's difficult to discern who's got a little flavor and depth underneath it all and who's just running for the thrill of it. That leather jacket will only take you so far before it begins to wear out.
They say that hindsight is 20/20, but foresight is just as important. I want someone who can take a step back and see the big picture rather than acting on impulse alone. And at this point in the cycle, reality comes into view and slaps me in the face, and I begin to understand that not only must she possess intelligence and restraint and wit and all of these desirable, mature characteristics, but she has to look stunning as well.
I ask for too much.
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