I want to have had more lives at my disposal. I want to have had the opportunity to pursue, sooner, what I haven’t yet pursued. Women. Opportunities. Love. More love. More experience in love.
Is this to be my 40-year crisis, then?
I find Copenhagen to be utterly intoxicating at this time of the year. Of my life. Of getting back into the pulsating city, walking around with a soundtrack of choice in my ear and making believe the choices are really mine to make.
I want experiences I’m likely to never experience, and that, quite besides, will be fueled by desires that promise short term pleasure and long-term uncertainty.
I want to get drunk with traditional piano jazz and a deep, deep bass and beer, lots of it, and look into a certain women’s eyes and find a shared obligation to throw caution to the wind.
I guess in the end I’ll loose that battle of curiosity and find myself unfulfilled. And I suppose I’ll settle into a routine that’ll take me through the years, and then one day I’ll realize the given realization that where I am then is because ’tis was destined, and for the best. And maybe it is, and maybe it will be. I’ll never know, for it’s a big World, isn’t it, and there’s not a sum can be derived from which ever path we’re lead on to. I’m likely to have been happy throughout, even. At least I bloody well hope so.
I’ll try to do better. And try to not allow myself to always look for excuses on someone else’s part; “if only she’d contributed more, I wouldn’t be looking around…”. That’s rather pathetic, isn’t it. And I’ll try and enjoy Copenhagen without too much of the intoxication; like any drug, too much of which isn’t healthy in the long term.
Met Thor tonight, took him on a round of Christiansborg and had a burger-dinner at a local place. Great to see him again – he speaks more freely than I’ve seen in a long time, if ever. Think his relationship is doing him good. Feel good for him, he deserves some basic happiness, life hasn’t been kind to him always.