This is my life, only better. Alone in an empty room. Uncomfortable. A woman in isolation. Bare but no matter how bare, still ignored. I joke that if I lay in the street, naked, tied down, offering money men might glance at me but they’d still walk past me. That I can’t give myself away. And it’s a very long time since I had a figure like this, so that hardly helps does it? And there is nothing I can do to get a figure like this because I am old. No amount of exercise, or even surgery can give you the bloom of youth again. And you certainly can’t go back & undo the wasted years or change the decisions you made. You only get one chance to get it right. I got it so wrong.
I thought I was getting my confidence back. Reclaiming my existence as a not-dead-yet woman with a few good years still ahead of me. But I’m kidding myself really. You’ll have seen the pictures I post here & I post pictures on Twitter. For the first time in a long time I was getting positive feedback from men about my (carefully posed & edited but headless) body. Attracting followers in droves. I was mostly feeling better about myself & feeling that there was still a chance for a woman hurtling towards 51. People here have been kind enough to tell me about their success. Nobody has come forward to say they’ve failed but then you wouldn’t would you? Statistically I have a 17% chance of finding another relationship, that’s not a long term r’ship, it’s one. Full stop. The figure gets worse very quickly with every passing year.
My follower numbers go up Despite the fact I delete the eggs, the no-bio, no-tweet a/cs, those where the man only ever RTs for his own pleasure, never interacts, doesn’t want any human contact or interaction, the guys who don’t speak a word of English. They’re just peeping Toms really & really are just using your body. I don’t give them permission to do that. I’m not that desperate. My numbers still creep up despite the fact that I block 60%+ of all new followers. But the vast majority of those guys stay in the shadows & you know they don’t even read your bio. Read my Tumblr? Even the guys hitting on me can’t be bothered to do that.
I have invested a huge amount of my time & far more money in creating those pictures. I approach each as I would any of the ‘proper’ photographs I have taken. It has to please me even though I realise things I don’t like arent even registered by men. But that would be getting too precious so I let a lot slip through. And, I’m right, they don’t notice. Only already it seems they also don’t notice me either. I don’t ask for attention during important events, like Euro 2012. I know what’s more important. Only tonight you get reminded that their need to flick through body after body is more important than my pictures too. 100+ people may see your picture, sometimes in excess of 1,000. And it’s always the same few who actually take the trouble to comment, or favourite or say something kind to you. And that feedback is the only thing I want. Tonight 2 people commented. And that’s not the first time. I was in the process of taking pictures when I posted that one. I tried to carry on taking pics but suddenly saw myself for the ridiculous old creature that I am. Contorting myself in new clothes to take pictures that will get 2 seconds of most men’s time. I crumbled. What is the point?
And then I thought and what is the point of me? And I don’t see one.
(Source: simply-black-and-white)
