I met a girl at the bar that day. She was strange. She strolled in simultaneously trying to keep everyone in their at bay, all the while interested in their affairs. She was distant and engaged. But here engagement was motivated sheerly out of boredom and lack of self-confidence. She needed to be engaged in order to continue to tell herself she was doing everything for a reason, or at least to tell herself she was a good person. We talked for a bit. She was obviously intrigued by my aloof expression, stack of texts and obnoxious shirt. She did most of the talking, and my occasional interruptions only seemed to spur her on more. She told me about herself. Which was by all accounts astounding. She told me about two things: being noticed, being wanted, being somebody--being glamorous; and, caring, helping and contributing. It was funny to me that someone who cared so much for them-self was trying so hard to convince me (and herself) how much she cared for others. I told her that if she had to think about either one, she should probably quit one and focus on the other. She wasn't all that bright and asked me what that meant. I told her that if you have to think about caring about people--if you have to try to care--then their is no sense in trying to convince me, them or yourself that you really do. Only the ones that care without breathing--without reflection--without a moment--only those understand how to care for others. Otherwise, you are just normal and that is that.

She didn't like my little piece of wisdom so she left. I sipped espresso and thought about sunlight. I sipped espresso until the evening came and then took a walk.