Tonight, for the first two bars, I had no purpose. I walked without a way to the Sire. I drank without a reason. I played pool aimlessly at Lake Alice. I watched and entertainment myself.

As I drove home, I told myself “I must approach.” I pulled back in to the Riverside Plaza, where I had parked just an hour before, and made my way to the Irish pub there. I saw a girl, sitting alone, smoking, talking to some guys a distance away about a sport, probably hockey. I targeted her. Blonde. Cute. Alone.

I go in, get my beer, and come outside. She’s gone. Disappointment. I drink my beer. I got back inside. I see her with a group. A guy and another girl. Should be prime. She looks alone, texting on her phone, but I just leave. I walk away. I was without purpose.

As I drove home, I felt a tinge of self-defeat. Then, I felt the warmth of my self-worth, self-control and self-motivation. I did not accomplish it Monday night, but I will accomplish it every night I go out. I will approach at least once each time. I will approach because it is my purpose. I will approach because I am a sexual being. I am damn good at being sexual. Forward. My problem, like when I drive a manual transmission, is first gear. I can get from second to fifth, no problem, but its first I have trouble with.

I will learn to shift from first to second to third to fourth to fifth.

I will give myself a purpose. The warm feeling. The fire of attracting women.

Purpose: My Anti-Depression.


2 responses to “Purpose

  1. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: Dog Days Edition

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