I just came out of the smoke club and I saw a lady with the most beautiful waistline I remember. I could not help but follow her super sexy gait a few meters behind her, then I thought to myself “more than one block is creepy” so I took a right turn, and ended up behind another beautiful lady, this one in tiny shorts, some 20 meters up ahead. A man called her “adios guapa!” and she turned back and smiled. The man (young and ugly) coyed playfully for a moment and then called her out, “ven!”. She stood there for a moment and the man started talking to her as if she was talking to a dog in a reassuring voice: ven hermosa no te voy a hacer nada yo solo quiero conocerte, and the beautiful lady walked towards him. Our paths and our eyes locked for a moment, recognizing the defiant stare of a sex worker,

After walking a few meters, I looked discreetly behind my back, and they seemed to be exchanging numbers or accounts. I walked to the corner and I saw her in the distance saying goodbye to her new acquaintance, and knowing my apetite I knew this was the moment to make a decision, for the call of the siren is too strong for me to make that choice when it’s luring me.

So I darted off into a random street and walked a couple of blocks thinking “if this was a dream I would have spoken to her, is this cowardice or is it wise?” and I could not answer this question before I came to the living answer: the detour took me through a neighborhood where there were are popular fiestas. People are drinking and dancing on the streets. As the sequence of events unfolded, I was impressed by elegance of the arrangement of events, as if it said to me something.

I walked amongst the crowd and met eyes and was confident but uncomfortable in my clothes. It’s been a tremendously hot day and I want to yoga, handn’t showered, shirt worn all day. Nope, I thought, not an option. I’ve come back home to shower. Then I got distracted completing emotion.method.ac and writing this. 23:30, it’s time to shower.

I come back at 1:01 having failed at my task. I debated whether to call it a failure because I didn’t vibe at all with the festivities, The music was not to my liking and I felt out of place. Coming back, I debated how I felt…

Melancholic indeed. Also, in my head instead of present.

I was thinking: hours ago you came to the realization that a balding man who covers his baldness can be a man child, but a man who has faced and accepted his baldness has to be a man. It makes no sense that a bald man has no confidence, for he has faced what is (for many), akin to many young people as death-in-life. Baldness is indeed a death sentence if you are used to having it easy with the ladies, and scrambling for skills at this late age is no easy feat.

The advice out there is terrible. The books worthless. All I have to do is cross this bubble between me and you and invert the order, but I don’t know how to do it. It’s rude of me to even try to speak from the other side. If I cannot be present, if I do not look at you and believe it is important to talk to you, I don’t think I ought to waste your time (unless you’re bored yourself and entertainment is what you want).

Where have my emotions moved?

Pensive, yes. The reason I don’t speak to people is because I don’t feel like it. Today I took part in an interesting conflict by choice and defused it unwillingly, mostly by asking about the problem over which they could find common ground. Sometimes “it feels right” and tonight was not one of those days.

When will it be? What else do I need? I used to complain I don’t have a home I don’t have a job oh I’m broken I’m undateable and now I’ve run out of excuses. As I was walking back I was thinking “what else am I missing?” and as I sit down now I notice the answer is “shhhhh… let’s come into the senses”. The mind agrees, it will do its part when I try again tomorrow. Let’s see how I feel:

Now, we must remember that feelings change with thought patterns. If the thought comes back, all I have to think is “I did the right thing today, and tomorrow I will do it too”, end of story. 01:41, goodnight.