I try to ignore much of what’s happening. Daily. Around me. Stuff near and far. I could do more. To help
strangers, for instance. Such as visiting a
nursing home. Looking for someone who’s
alone. Who seldom, if ever, has a visitor. I don’t take enough time to help
others. Finding it too convenient to live too much of my life in relative isolation. Rather than
actively looking for the needy. And to
do something about it. Of course, I make exceptions. I do some good deeds. To
salve my conscience. If I were a more decent being, I’d go out of my way to
help others. Not only becoming more observant.
But more compelled to do something about it. In significant ways. Instead. I
sit at home. Consumed with myself. And by falling in love. With dear Jeanne. For 38
years. Now with Cristina. For 10 years, and
counting. That’s my way of being a lover. Focusing on one or two. Giving it my all. In the process, I ignore so many others. But do you know
what? I ain’t going on a guilt trip. I’ll
continue being a specialized lover. --Jim Broede
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