Wednesday, February 3, 2010

61. He had run out of options

I've taken stock of everything I have within my tiny little universe. I've audited the lists, checked my math, filed my returns early and waited by the mailbox anxiously for a response. The response never came in the mail, and it never will. I shouldn't be waiting around for a response when all I need to do is look in the mirror for one. Took me almost seven years to come to a conclusion like this. I waited for things to happen to me, in some respects I'm still waiting. It's stupid, and an awful way to live. I'm pretty hard on myself too, for everything. I consistently find myself riddled with guilt when it isn't necessary. The food I eat, or don't eat. Yelling at the dogs when they misbehave, taking stressful situations out on my mother, and close friends. Something I've always done, and something that has always killed me for days at a time. I've binged and purged on everything. Too much of something at a time then nothing for days even weeks at a time. I don't know if the steps that I'm taking are the right ones, but at least they're steps.  I'm tired of watching minutes blend to hours which blend into days which turn into weeks. I'm purging my misery and transforming myself. I want to be a machine. I want to be unstoppable. I'll binge on routine and what this world has to offer, even more so what it has to throw at me. I hate it enough to fight it, and someday I'll be strong enough to take it on. Diet. No more junk food, no more picking throughout the day, no more sugar, no more fried food.
Exercise. changing my regiment, sick of a plateau, sick of comfort, sick of dirty looks from ed hardy clad portuguese jocks. Stronger, faster.
Apathy with applied and deserved care. Ignore, everyone that has little to no bearing on my life. Listen to friends and family members, closely. Find a new job, and fast. Write off anyone and anything that is holding me back. Shake off anything that makes me weak.

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