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disynthetic

Saint Louis

Member Since 2004

Followers 56 Following 138

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Thursday Oct 07, 2010

Oct 7, 2010
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Last week I noticed that I was beginning to get what you might refer to as, "a little bit of beer gut." I'm not going to lie here. That's why I blog here after all. So I can tell the whole truth. I became hyper-self-conscious about it. What did I proceed to do? I started doing every abdominal exercise I could think of for 15 minutes twice a day. When I woke up, and the same before bed. Even if I was dog-ass tired or it was 3 in the morning and I had to be up at 7am. You could say that it concerned me a little. I had already slowed down drinking beer to the point that I may have one or two during the week. And this was a week before I noticed my dilemma. I didn't know that the yeast is so bad for you. Yeesh.

Now it's been a week and every minute of every day since, my core has been aching like woah. This is only worth mentioning because I stopped after work and grabbed a fat-can of Sapporo. I have been controlling my impulsiveness to the point that I wouldn't even indulge one impulse unless I had done sufficient productive activity prior. I only indulge them because I know that if that kind of experiment worked on Pavlov's Dogs, it's damn good enough for me. One week and several new good habits later, I think an indulgence is in order. Besides. I'm still gonna finish this beer and this blog and go do 200 situps, and whatever else I can fit into the remaining minutes I mandated that I spend.

I've got alot of new self-motivation lately from a certain writer. It's inspired me to know that someone out there not of my generation or hometown and that I don't even know has had the same thoughts, frustrations, and behaviors that I do. It's fucking invigorating. I find myself doing things by sheer force of will. Things that I may or may not have done before, depending on how dire the circumstances were. I know that's shitty of me to admit, but it's true.

So where do I leave off after all that self-absorbed nonesense... I've come to like my loneliness. It never bothered me in general. But there were occasions where I felt extra vulnerable, specifically weak, where I would do stupid shit to reach out to people just to hear another human voice. That all seems silly now. Silly and unnecessary. Now it seems completely mechanical to talk to most people. And unless they inadvertently manage to peak my curiousity or, shall we say, "jumpstart my imagination," it's just going through the motions to get to the part of life I'm more interested in. That's not really callous. It's not. Everyone already does that to a degree. A lot of people are simply not willing to admit that of the people they talk to everyday, they are not very concerned with what happens to those people as soon as they are out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind... provided they never find out if something terrible happened to them, they'd never know, and never wonder. In almost all cases that would hold true. That's not terrible. That's honest.

That was a horrible conclusion. It's not-very-good-writing to introduce new ideas at the conclusion of your statement. In that case, It may seem out of place now, but, my abs are so fucking sore right now. And I'm going to go kill them some more.

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