Listen… I am glad we are walking together. It is one of the few things I enjoy recently. If I open a book, I am reminded of my own inability to create great art, and if I step into the information age I am sucked away into that endless senselessness of genocide and pornography. Only when I wake up do I realize that I miss this, and I miss that, and I miss her. Then, I realize I have failed to accomplish anything that day, and the one before it, and…

Well, let me tell you a meritless fact: I have been in love only once. Rather, I have been in love a million times, but each time I delve deeper into love’s beautiful eddies, I look back to see all previous love as nothing more than childish fancy. In fact, maybe now I am lying to myself, and I have never been in love… but no. At the least, I have been in love with myself and my whims, maybe exclusively. This has been true for me since kindergarten, but sometimes I think it’s true for all the world. Maybe you too have only ever been engaged with women with an expectation that love will come later, that it will sprout tender blossoms over the dirt once the rest is sorted, once the future comes; arguments cease once the child arrives, once they are out of the house, and once you are dead and buried. Maybe you have only been engaged with men. I had no concept of this in kindergarten, but I knew what I wanted back then, at least.

Pause, look at this stream. You think I’m pretentious about this? You would be correct. As I say, I am unable to create art, so I must instead pine to whoever offers me the time. I’m sorry it has to be you. And I am so unoriginal in my existentialities, so contrived…

If a man is so uninteresting that he must resort to existentialities on a first date… let him kill himself! If he really wanted to, he wouldn’t be on a date, would he? Never engage with that. So yes, I am a hypocrite, and I despise anyone who sees the best in me, because they are lowering themselves. I haven’t killed myself yet, and I don’t plan to. So why should they care? Anyways, I will reach further someday; I will work harder. I will be worthy of love. Isn’t that what they want?

See, there is simply too much happening now, but I think when my schedule clears up I will become a grand professor, starting lowly in some lowly university, speaking for the people, and then, with their support, rising above the rest. At some ivy I may allow myself to rest a while, then I will find love. My schedule is full now, you see. That’s why I go on walks.