apologia pro egotismus mea
The day is going down.
I walk out the door of Starbucks cafe and stand for a moment amid the bustle and swirl of Dame Street.
Car lights sweep by in the gathering dark. Orange street lamps hover.
This year's girls cluster round the gates of Trinity College.
Revellers stroll along the pavement.
In the throng I am alone.
They pass me without heed. City folk. The very ones who will soon part with amazement and applaud my approach.
I smile.
Each man must be a legend to himself.
I walk out the door of Starbucks cafe and stand for a moment amid the bustle and swirl of Dame Street.
Car lights sweep by in the gathering dark. Orange street lamps hover.
This year's girls cluster round the gates of Trinity College.
Revellers stroll along the pavement.
In the throng I am alone.
They pass me without heed. City folk. The very ones who will soon part with amazement and applaud my approach.
I smile.
Each man must be a legend to himself.
posted by heelers | 2:49 AM
3 Comments:
A bit of swagger can be an interesting and even useful attribute. A friend of my son's has a rather exaggerated swagger. It's cute, from the female viewpoint, but it might irritate his male supervisors. He walks exactly like his dad who is a career military man of significant rank. It's amusing to see them strolling along together.
Of course, I'm not suggesting that you were swaggering down Dame Street. ;)
Ah yes, Gen's comments put me in mind of Josh Hartnett in the Virgin Suicides.
I will say no more.
Very instructive Gen!
Schnee, you've said enough!
James
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