Eight o’clock.

I ran into Scott the cab driver at the market a half hour ago. He was checking his lottery tickets for a win. Also there was a gas station attendant behind me in line, and I saw a few women there. The clouds were beautiful, white, gray, and peach, as if painted by an artist. I stopped in the middle of the street to look at them. The book of Nature may have an author, as people believed in the Renaissance. It would be difficult to say for sure. Though it was 46 degrees out, the ambience felt mellow and inviting. One young student rode an electric scooter on her way to the middle school, crossing Maxwell Road and south on N Park. I saw a nice looking young woman walking her dog on the sidewalk… The other day I cut the conversation with my sister a bit short, though I’m not certain why. Maybe I was thinking that it’s impossible for us to go back to the way things were. Most decisions are irrevocable. This is today and not twenty years in the past, and time goes in one direction only. It seems like everyone is sort of wrapped up in himself. Occasionally we need to pause to admire the skyline. 



Warning ⚠️: Sexual content

Nine o’clock 🕘. From something T— said it sounds like he’s a virgin. He sounds inexperienced with sexual nuts and bolts, just the rudiments that give a man an erection. He lacks this much self knowledge, whereas I’ve seen a lot more of life than he has. Maybe he won’t know anything until he gets married. I’m a little embarrassed for him and his overrated religion which precludes the human experience we all deserve to know. Or maybe I should feel embarrassed for myself for not being chaste and innocent? Sheryl didn’t know anything about male sexuality either. I can’t think of anyone who does know besides me. Rather than keep looking for external verification of what I know about myself, I should just act based on my own experience. It seems to me that human beings are losing touch with their instincts, which would be a very sad condition for humankind. D H Lawrence could have predicted a day such as this. Or perhaps I’m just alone with the knowledge that I have of sexual stuff. I know that my sister is a complete prude, denouncing anything remotely sexual, and maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. This makes me feel ashamed of myself a bit, or should I condemn her for being cold as an icicle? It is strange to be ostracized over sexuality, but then she got a divorce over something sexual. I guess I’m willing to accept my solitude with the truth I possess. But it still feels awfully strange…