oct 10

The toss and turn of sore legs indicative of a poorly slept night. Window reflecting blood into the room. Dark red radiance. IN the same vein, I puncture skin to create bruises and put my fist through walls in places flimsy enough. Guitar tone evident, the creation process, a six day challenge, to brainstorm for the rest of the week, and come up with shitty ideas on shitty mondays, to process the inevitable decline of the show as other things become juggled and to combat fan reactions, but the whole offensive thing became taboo and im drinking an instant breakfast in the morning, this warm morning, awaiting the courage the motivation to go lift some weights for awhile among big-necked shit heads who look down at anyone they might see as a threat to their masculinity or chances at getting some pussy, but hey monday morning, it is not my time to be on the prowl, this is for me, this is not for pruning and strutting, the cocky walk of big dudes around small girls, the sneer, the attitude, not for me to adopt. Not for me to consider. the reality is, I want to get in great shape because it will make me happier and my body happier, to treat myself so nicely. it is not about sex or the secondary cause or some horny high school kid blues, the fate of it, the elastic girls with their eyes in the clouds, looking down, running slowly through treadmill marathons and training to go over to san fransisco to race and to win, to fly 200 miles. To glory.