Soundtrack:
I'm dressing for work.
I spot it.
A white hair on my head.
The first one of my life.
I'm again reminded of Fitzgerald's “Thirty--the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning brief-case of enthusiasm, thinning hair.”
I sip my coffee and see a girl I've salsa danced with before. I don't remember her face immediately, but the tattoo on the back of her neck recalls my attempts to lead her, her introducing me to her mom at the event, and her unwillingness to follow, and my taking her number at her behest and knowing full well I'd rather slit my wrists than call her and suffer through several dates to fuck her and have her grind on my dick in un-rhythmic fashion, for that is what it would be and my having banged something like 60 or 70 chicks tells me this as unequivocally as I know my own name.
The younger me would press ahead undaunted, but the me of 30 prefers not to suffer through bad conversation, mindless banter, and awkward fumblings toward what passes for intimacy in this age of modernity. She has nice legs, thick lips, a big ass for a white chick, but the irritation set in the first time we danced and that was the death knell of sex before it could even foment between two people on paper that probably have comparable young-adult lives and interests.
I look at Maslow's Hierarchy, thanks Post Masculine, and I look over my 20's.
Physiological/Safety - I saw college as a guarantee to a job that would keep me from being poor (one of my biggest fears, that and having a job I loathed due to boredom). Making sure I'd have work, a place to stay and food.
Social/Esteem - banging girls to feel wanted, to feel cool, to prove that I could. living a reckless and audacious life that would ultimately prove unfulfilling and lead to costly expenses due to thrill-seeking. Probably chasing away my issues of abandonment if nothing else.
Self-Actualization - setting aside the childish vices of my 20's and pursuing more fulfilling endeavors. choosing my actual goals, pursuits that actually better me as a person. deciding to try and be honest and forthright about what I want, what I don't want, and my priorities.
"Then there is the "Cognitive" level, where individuals intellectually stimulate themselves and explore.
After that is the "Aesthetic" level, which is the need for harmony, order and beauty.[42]
At the top of the pyramid, "Need for Self-actualization" occurs when individuals reach a state of harmony and understanding because they are engaged in achieving their full potential.[43] Once a person has reached the self-actualization state they focus on themselves and try to build their own image. They may look at this in terms of feelings such as self-confidence or by accomplishing a set goal.[4]"
Maslow was a sharp dude.
I look back on those days as a necessary evil. I had bridges to cross, exploits to savor and set aside to calm the fuck down.
I had to chase the dragon's tail to find the ride until I got tired of the ride and got off of my own volition.
In true addict-speak, no one can make you want to stop. An addict must want to change for themselves and no other reason.
You see it in the tense walk of married women, who don't have to work or work b/c it's what they're supposed to do, or have a kid b/c y'know...it's what you're supposed to do and they have to b/c all their "friends" from college and growing up already have them.
Ugh. Blow my fucking brains out.
Do what everyone else does, get what everyone else gets.
Get your checklist out.
Mark off those boxes, bro.
House.
Car.
Check and check.
Kids. Dog. Cat. Hamster.
College savings fund.
Fence for the house.
Yearly vacation.
Fast forward and your kids leave and your wife and you have sex like 4 times a year and that's being optimistic.
I prefer to brave the unknown, to see what the dark seas bring on the horizon of the squalls and maelstroms of uncertainty.
Take the shiny trinkets from the Galleria of Jewelry, your husband is tired of fucking you, and he eye fucks every younger chick he sees all day long.
Your vagina is unused and aches for the fraudulent violation of an uncaring man using you as he desires with no recompense or concern for your needs.
Welcome to adulthood.
I'll pass on the whole charade and such.
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