Skips Beats Races

I got frustrated this afternoon because I tried to write my sick, favorite Uncle an email after a long spell of silence on my part. To be honest, the reason I haven’t written him in so long is because I am furious about his condition. It’s unfair and unsavory that the god(s) have done this to him. [He had esophageal cancer, now it is in a muscle in his back and there is a limit to the radiation he can receive because he is already on dialysis four times a day and the muscle in question is near his liver and kidneys.]

Then I looked back in my archived emails to when I last wrote him. En route, I came across emails exchange with Her, and that made my blood boil. Because she is such a bitch. Because she has disappointed me more than any person I have ever trusted.

Then I walked home. I looked in the mirror. I realized how disappointed I am in myself for squandering this summer so far. I drink too much. I flirt too much with no consequence, passion, or interest attached to my actions or words. I am too lazy. I indulge too much. I am not working on my self-improvement enough.

I want to go away in the Fall semester and return for Spring looking like I could snap a 4x4 plank with 2 fingers. I want to walk past Her and make her knees go weak just seeing me smile because I’m a fucking Greek god. The best part is, I’ve realized over time that my body is the kind that is better able to form muscles and shape as it gets older—I am approaching, not passing my optimal age for fitness. So, if I could get my ass out of bed I could actually do this stuff.

But I’m so tired, and so bored, and so lazy and undisciplined that I do nothing. These last two years have landed me here. I produce nothing. I read blogs and news and watch movies that other people wrote and I tell the world nothing. My silence is criminal and I’m disgusted at myself for it.