Good Morning for 2-5-6

“He’s all action and no theory. We’re all theory and no action.”

I did finally watch that movie Cliff lent me, Waking Life. Might be nice if you were high, but otherwise the animation was very seasickening. It was basically bits and pieces of pretentious babble intertwined with disorientating transitions. Only halfway through do you realize that it does actually have a plot or point, and isn’t just completely random scenes.

I don’t know, when I watch movies, I like to feel like there’s a beginning of a movie. Even if it’s somebody sitting in a room, quietly. I like feeling like the beginning is as significant as the end, rather than just some time to roll credits. I will probably have to watch it again to pay attention more, because I seriously stopped paying attention in the middle. I can totally see someone stopping the film in the middle, due to lack of interest. That’s just not good.

I woke up this morning feeling some tightness in my muscles. I did shrugs for the first time yesterday, using the same weight as deadlifts, so naturally my trapezoids feel a little tight. I have no desire to have huge trapes, but I figure they’re a support muscle. They’re strong in relation to other muscles, but unless I keep up with them, they will flag when the weight increases more. My bum is a little sore, but I like of like that. I’m a strange boy. Also, my abs are sore. I’m not really sure how to account for that. It feels divine to lay on my stomach and scretch my abs.

So. Sunday. Yet another dissatisfying weekend, mostly of my own undoing. Oh, I did have my Orange Dinner last night. Spiral Mac and cheese, and orange soda. I noticed it was the last box.

Sundays are especially depressing for me because there is nothing to do. Nothing to look forward to, no plans, nothing. It is nice to lay in bed for a while, relaxing, but otherwise I scratch my head for what to do with myself. Reality creeps in, the various academic things due monday. I knew that online hybrid class that meets once a week could kick my ass because I’d never do the work. I hope I find a way to deal with that.

Typically on days like this, boredom is the ultimate enemy. Entertain yourself doing the most mindless things. It’s only when that fails that I sort of sit up and recognize, “Okay. Stop running from it, you really need to do something.” Something, anything. Something to look forward to. I haven’t brushed my teeth since Friday. Or thursday. I don’t really remember. I never know when to do it. I’d do it now, but I should eat first. I’d eat, but I don’t know what to eat. I also need to get out of my bathrobe. I hate that moment when you’re changing when you’re exposed to the coolness of the room. You think that the coldness of your clothes won’t be as comforting as your nude skin against your bathrobe, but very quickly, the fabric warms to your skin and you’re once again affirmed that it’s not so bad.

Ignorance really is bliss. Having a functioning brain merely means you can talk yourself out of things. You think a dog thinks twice about licking his balls?

Though, if I could, I don’t think I’d think twice, either.

And so I sit. Seconds, minutes being taken off my life. A waste. I should rise! I should do something! I deserve to feel alive!

Yeah. I hope to get one of those things someday. “A life.”

Whatever. I know the problem, as well as most of the solution. I just can’t be bothered to do anything about it. I know whose fault it is when I look in the mirror.