May. 31st, 2017

monk222: (DarkSide: by spiraling_down)
I was looking through the fence to see how the neighbor dog is doing, and I could hardly believe the wonderful scene. There were little kids there, and they were playing joyfully with the dog. They were chasing each other, and they would hug the dog passionately. It was so beautiful to see that dog so happy, finally, finally getting the taste of the life it always should have known. I never saw those kids before, but I hope this is a permanent thing.

But then I woke up. It was just a dream. A heavenly dream, but just something in my head. And now I can hear the dog moaning its loneliness and pain, probably short-leashed on the bricked ground without food or water, much less someone who loves him or is at least willing to take the least decent care of him.
monk222: (Little Bear)
Funny, I find myself looking through Dreamwidth's "Latest Things", which is their compilation of latest public postings, and it feels a little like I am back in my thirties and just got on the Internet for the first time and created my first blog, looking for potential blogging pals, as though I might find another Effulgent Days, another Kenties, another Crysling and Evil Lawn Gnome, another Antilapsarian, another Pablo Bastard, another Christie, another Jena, another Gabe and Sugar. Another chance. Another chance to be like a college student, trying to be intelligent and cool, and looking to score!

It's not that I am in any danger of actually approaching people and trying to connect. I know that is history and done, like my youth. The only type of account I might try that with is one of those young gals that is clearly 'attention whoring', posting those cute and hot pics, and who obviously doesn't mind playing to old horndogs and getting us all hot and bothered, laughing delightedly at our silly flirtations, but I don't see anyone like that. I suppose such girls today are more like to become camgirls right away and get paid for their trouble.

There are some middle-aged people and oldsters journaling their lives, but, no, I don't have any desire to try to connect there. It would be one thing if I had led a conventional life and could talk about my children and my career. I am too much of a failed 30-year-old at heart. I am too ridiculous.


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