Where is the time to stand and stare?
Gone are the days when I could go pick up any book and finish off reading it cover to cover in one go. Those were the days when I could afford a lie in on a Saturday and not have to worry about running countless errands to try and stay on top of things in the week ahead. Gosh, I miss those days ever so much when I could luxuriate in foam bath for hours on end - just me and my Crabtree & Evelyn toileteries - a panel discussion on Radio 4 to keep us both company. Taking books or the Sunday papers in with me to the bath has never been in my nature, so I am not about to pretend feeling miserable without them my chaperones. And what to say of the time I actually had had to exchange pleasantries with myself in the mirror, first thing in the mornings! I vaguely remember being stood naked in front of a mirror each day before a wet shave; in deep conversation as it were, with the Adonis like body I liked to tell myself I owned : if only hips could lie. Those were indeed the days when I could get as much pleasure soaking in the flavour of peppermint tea on my daily commute in to work as I would get feasting my eyes on dandy gentlemen in the Soho (dandy yes, "camp" no) or holding hands later that evening, with my pilot bf by my side on the lounger.
As I sit here navel gazing I am having a pretty hard time remembering when was the last time I had touched my own navel and made love to myself. Was it a month ago on my birthday when I had taken the day off and been in the shower a full half hour relishing the jet stream of water as it hit my body, or was it on some foggy New Year's eve when W and me had decided to give the " Ecstasy Circuit" the miss and stay in instead to celibate? Just so you know we did however; celebrate watching home videos of happier times and by fondling and caressing one another over a heavy wine tasting session.
Where have those days disappered? Who dunnit it to all of us? Was it the mobile, the Internet or cable that have turned us all into the walking zombies we've become so not given to behaving on the spur of the moment and taking it easy? And is it ever going to be the same again for us Ordinary Gays?
posted by Men Who Do Cleavages at 10:04 pm
2 Comments:
This may sound achingly tired and even rich, coming from the likes of me but the real charm of living is in the small things in Life : making the time to study your partner's body scent more closely as s/he showers and crawls up into bed or getting down to a conversation mode with your cuppa rather than just gulping it down surreptitiously.
It's no use complaining about a lack of time. We simply must learn to time manage better and to know how to let our hair down even as we slog at jobs that help pay the rent.
Neat post and rather poignant too - you are a poet:) Funny thing, poetry or poignant prose emerges from a longing or a loss..so in that sense you are already half way there. I know exactly what you mean - we all are leading half-lives really, maybe there is something about being a transcedentalist and living for the moment?
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