Sunday, May 27, 2012


It's time for another walk, kids. I'm going for four miles today, and if it kills me then I deserve it, because four miles is only getting back to where I was, four miles is a good workout, four miles is nothing (besides 21,000-some feet, and now you're splitting hairs).

Besides, I have to think, and walking seems to be the best way to do it these days. I can't just sit around listening to el gato complain about his lot in life. Today, during his latest burst of pitiful meows, I called him on it: "Sweet baby Jebus, you think you've got it bad? Try gimping your way through the world." He replied by promptly and lustily using his litter box. Methinks he was making an editorial statement on my self-pity. Or he just needed to poop.

Seriously, I have to figure this out, and fast. What began as a fine Saturday has turned into a black Sunday, made more stark by the sunshine. Depression is one thing, but this descent has been unusually rapid, and that's frightening. I'm afraid I'm going to make bad choices if I don't curb the dark mutterings in my head.

(I'm not going to blame anyone or anything for this mood. It's not the CVA, not Venus, not my friends, not my enemies. It's me. I've done plenty of things to deserve this karma; I've had too many highs not to deserve this kind of low. A friend likes to talk about balance: well, dude, this is balance for you.)

So off I go into the wild yonder, armed with some Frou Frou — don't even start hating — and the belligerence of the Rising Sun Flag tattooed on my heart. Both of those things mean something to me, and right now I need to hold on to those personal talismans. They're basically all I've got left. When your world becomes increasingly inconsolable and insignificant, you learn to hold fast to precious things — hold fast and pray to the gods or whatever to keep from falling apart in parts.

Wish me luck. I'm numb and I'm stupid and I can't feel much right now, but even in this state I think I'm going to need all the luck I can get.

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