i am these days it appears attractive to young men
attracted too, of course, but that’s not news and not newsworthy: young men are attractive by definition even people who aren’t generally attracted to young men can see this and even if they can’t see it, they are still attracted to them irrespective their gender their inclination their orientation their emotion their wisdom their inhibition, their assessment of any given situation: whether they want to or not and believe that they are or that they aren’t people all people are always attracted to young men (except those few who are not and they are few and are not and are therefore the exception: the rule is confirmed)
what’s new is that more than before more than ever as far as ever i can tell (and often i can’t) or recall (and i could if i would) men half my age or just slightly older or occasionally just slightly younger still too come to me, seek me out not i them of the men i have met, spoken to, spent time and been with lately most, though not all, have been those that are half my age or slightly older or on occasion slightly younger even and who have come to me, sought me out not i them
this flatters me, of course, maybe honours me, but more than that does it fascinate me because i don’t do anything to attract them, not consciously: if anything i do the opposite i grow a beard i wear a jacket left me by a friend more than ten years ago, which was vintage then my shoes are worn out and my jeans though skinny threadbare i don’t go to the gym i don’t wear my lenses i don’t cultivate a young voice or vocabulary yet young men more than they have ever done before, even when especially when i was their age come to me, seek me out i don’t go after them. on a park bench at a party in a bar even online i mind my own business more or less i say hello maybe, or greet a smile with a smile but that’s it i don’t do anything more; maybe that’s what it is maybe that’s what makes me suddenly, perplexingly attractive to young men: it may be that in the past, when i was their age i was just trying too hard to be something, someone, some other person than the one that they saw because they saw through me then to me now and now what they see is what they get and if they are friendly and kind and intelligent too (apart from being attractive: being young, they’re always obviously attractive) i see no reason why they shouldn’t get what they see if what they see is what they desire is life not give and take after all and are we not in it to share of ourselves as we lose ourselves in each other?
my summer of love leaves me warm-hearted light-headed and simple of soul there is so much delight in being human
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