minced meat

my brain has been minced meat. like this whole year practically. as evidenced by the blogs here. these days it's the forum and computer games. team fortress 2 lately, which even typing it rolls off my fingers like a cigarette I had forgotten was in my pocket. I'm talking with rachel now and I don't feel ashamed. I was just standing in the dining room, which has bay windows and an antique rug, and I felt like a doll standing there, my legs and abdomen so shapely and proportional to the room, it's a good morning. But just yesterday I tried to go out and put up fliers and I felt like I couldn't do it alone. And my dreams have been bone meal. And my days are bone meal. And another interview is coming up.

So I'm making myself get in shape. I don't like to set goals for myself. I used to never do it. Until I was 20 or so. It's false. It implies I am broken, that I can't take care of myself, that I have to take care of the taking care of myself. It implies that the genuine me needs a different sane, healthy me to look after it. But it's true. My soul is in no position to be free of itself right now. Even if the interview wasn't coming up, I should be monitoring it better. I wish my world had better rhythms. All this stop and go. Work! Sex! Ocean! Work! Ocean! Work! Camping! Work! Work! Sex! Work! Trees! Work! It's confusing and stressful, like every house I start to build is blown down within a day or two. Hopefully my next plot of land will have enough stability to hold a dream, or will provide liquid enough material to make it move with the wind.

But really, listen to me, I am making myself get in shape. I've even started doing push ups. Like hundreds. Soon I'll have robotic arms attached to this otherwise mediocre body. I don't even know what I'll do with them. Triceps aren't good for anything but punching you know. You can't play Frisbee golf with triceps. Or have sex with triceps. And what's the point of exercising at all if not sex?

Sanity I guess. I'm pointlessly attaching robot arms to myself in the name of sanity. How about them apples. Meanwhile, a whole desert of insanity stands before me. I need to explore. As soon as this interview falls through. Is it fair that I should be setting a goal like that at a time like this? To be setting a goal of freedom and outlawing these things my stomach tells me to do in the same referendum? Yes. I am something of a socialist after all. I never believed in letting things go. If you don't restrict the flow of the market then it will just go down the drain.

A man can not grow straight without something to nurture him, even if it is merely his other self.