two updates in one day. this sort of tell-tale sign of little else to do is usually reserved for weekends. but, no work tomorrow so i spend extra time killing myself in the gym and jamming xbox with friends and updating my journal twice in one night (though admittedly the first entry was crap).
i'm an all or nothing creature. whatever i do, i do it full tilt. the only thing which keeps the needle out of the red is the fact that i bore rather easily and move on to doing something else full throttle rather quickly.
a constant, however, is this near need for physical pain. whether it be from pounding, retching, eyeball popping drinking binges with accompanying hangovers or cutting or slamming myself around in a weight room...i seem to always crave some sort of dire, real feeling. i'll not have a smoke for months, but go out and slam tequila shots and smoke a pack and a half in one night. i'll get fat and so out of shape i'm winded walking to my truck, but then kill myself running or lifting for weeks on end. this year found me doing yoga one night, then putting away a twelve pack of guinness the next. i'm all over the place. most everything is an extreme. hot or cold. on or off.
the only times i really ever felt a sense of stasis was when i was involved with a steady girlfriend. each time that occurred, however, the numbness wouldn't go away.
bah, not feeling particularly eloquent lately. i've noticed over the last few months my control over what seems to actually be a shrinking lexicon has dwindled. or maybe i've already exhausted my ration of decently interesting things to say and now must take my place among the plebes.
geez, sorry to have wasted your time. don't mind me...
-pb
book: philosophy: who needs it? ayn rand
music: tom waits, real gone
i'm an all or nothing creature. whatever i do, i do it full tilt. the only thing which keeps the needle out of the red is the fact that i bore rather easily and move on to doing something else full throttle rather quickly.
a constant, however, is this near need for physical pain. whether it be from pounding, retching, eyeball popping drinking binges with accompanying hangovers or cutting or slamming myself around in a weight room...i seem to always crave some sort of dire, real feeling. i'll not have a smoke for months, but go out and slam tequila shots and smoke a pack and a half in one night. i'll get fat and so out of shape i'm winded walking to my truck, but then kill myself running or lifting for weeks on end. this year found me doing yoga one night, then putting away a twelve pack of guinness the next. i'm all over the place. most everything is an extreme. hot or cold. on or off.
the only times i really ever felt a sense of stasis was when i was involved with a steady girlfriend. each time that occurred, however, the numbness wouldn't go away.
bah, not feeling particularly eloquent lately. i've noticed over the last few months my control over what seems to actually be a shrinking lexicon has dwindled. or maybe i've already exhausted my ration of decently interesting things to say and now must take my place among the plebes.
geez, sorry to have wasted your time. don't mind me...
-pb
book: philosophy: who needs it? ayn rand
music: tom waits, real gone
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
she had real ice in her.
she got a new gyno and went out on a lecture junket.t
the new one put on a parka and really went like all the way inside.
i desparately wish i could remember where i read that story.
i was thinking it was an issue of McSweeney's Quarterly, but i couldn't find it
edited for a retarded spelling mistake
[Edited on Dec 17, 2004 5:43AM]