Oh what I would give to be young again and without a care.
I'm surrounded by youth. Kids in college with their entire lives ahead of them. And I'm among them. A scraggly, old, fat man that's homeless. Depressing isn't it. I'm on the Internet all day until I got bored of surfing. And then I started writing on my screenplay until I got bored of it. I bought a bottle of San Pellegrino and folded into my table. I played 2142 but the router here was not clean. Too high a ping average had me kicked off of server after server...until I got bored of that.
For once, Igor had a hit with me. This place was marvelous and I can't wait until tomorrow morning when I will return for a cup of coffee and to watch all of the twenty year old girls walk by and strut their stuff. It's almost like watching porn. It's hypnotic in a way, almost licentious. I remember my thirties, when I became invisible to twenty somethings for the first time. It was a strange feeling, it was as if I lost my youth, of which I did. But I was married and looking at other women was a bit passe. I was having sex on tap when I was in my thirties, and if I got horny watching young women outside, I could always go home and sink my urges.
But now, looking at twenty somethings fill me with a sense of melancholy. I'm not horny for them, I long for MY twenty something. Like it is said: youth is wasted on the young. If I knew then what I know now. Shit like that. Fuck, with my forty year old ass, I don't know what I would do with a twenty something naked and ready for sex. Probably play scrabble. I just don't exercise like that anymore. I don't have the steam for such a thing. Almost like what George Burns once said, that sex was like playing pool with a rope.
Not that I couldn't get it up. I'm sure I could. But I can't keep it up. Have you ever heard of 'bringing it back around'? That's when a man has an orgasm, and has to take a break, which in medical terms is called the male refractory period, where another erection is damn near impossible. It can last between ten minutes or an hour. When I was in my twenties I swear, I had a refractory period of two minutes. I could go again, again and again. Which is what a twenty year old female, or perhaps every female wants. Who can deliver that kind of steam and 'bring it back around' in their forties? And I'm damn near fifty. I'll be saying goodbye to my forties in another four years.
And on top of that, these kids have homes. They have themselves surrounded by their belongings, without anyone threatening them with eviction unless they stop paying rent. And rent is always being paid. I'm wondering what the fuck is it that's holding me back? Is it just that I don't want to be counted with the general population any longer? Can I complain not having a home when I don't have a job?
Can I complain about living at BRC if I don't have a job?Can I complain about not having a job if I don't want to work?
Can I complain about not working if I don't have a home?
Can I complain about not having a home if I don't have a babe?
Can I complain about not having a babe because I live at BRC?
Start at the top.
I'm sitting in this classy coffee shop, planning on making it mine more than I do Starbucks. Yes, these people will get used to me as being their regular, because that's my plan.
It's getting late. It's about time for me to return to the Box.I think I'm going to stop at Associated and snag some dinner. It's too expensive to eat here at 'Think Coffee'.
Yeah, that's the name of the place: Think Coffee.
Talk to you later,
HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2008/08/watching-twenty-somethings.html
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