your excellent health and your cruelty

Yesterday, I did something completely out of the ordinary. I did something.
I put on my shorts (my non shorty short shorts, I was surprised I even had those!) and laced up my sneakz, stuffed myself into a wrinkly ole white t-shirt and I left my apt.

I went on a...what's that word? I hadn't done it in so long that I've forgotten the term for it. It has or at least had been windex'd from my memory. All the booze 'n' hard livin' having demolished any recognition of physical activity not involving bad for you life choices.
It's not walking; well, it's like walking but faster. But it isn't, oh I'm late to work, need to get the train, fast, it's more even paced and you end up breathing a lot harder, and sweating...there's a lot of sweating. Running! That's what I did, I moved my fat stubby legs and ran.

I ran to the park, I ran at the park and I ran home. I did three separate runnins!

Whilst I courais, I thought to myself "I didn't even know the french word for run!" and also "wow, I'm woefully out shape." My body has turned the consistency of stale dough, not entirely soft but definitely shapeless.

So, corriendo, I thought about other things like;
I like running, I hate running, running is fun and running is for saps and losers and why why why am I doing this, why do my lungs burn so bad? oh god are those my shins? when did gravity get so heavy? and why am I hallucinating that there is a giant squirrel doing push ups while a unicorn sits on his back and whittles at a stick!?...........?

So many thoughts running (get it!) through my already inflammed brain matter it was creating so much pressure in my skull thatIi had no choose but to stop.

and I stopped and stretched and a ran home and I stretched there too.

And I breathed in and out, in and out; collapsing into myself I thought




what a mess