summer 19

some people brag about how many cold showers they took. they give an exact number. me personally, i don’t count them. it’s more than 3 and less than 20. i’m busier counting other things: 96 ounces of water a day, inhale 3 hold 4 exhale 8, i can bike to work in 21 minutes if i exert all my strength.

we count we count we wait. then it’s july. it’s always july that we remember because it feels like the middle but it’s certainly not the middle in any mathematical sense. we count how many months are left, we brag about how many months we’ve endured.

every day i do the hard the work of explaining to myself why i don’t need to do yoga. i don’t need to avoid sweets. i can take two xnx. because i tip the scales. i do the inverse operation. if i skip yoga it’s ok bc i can do it another day. i can eat sweets bc i bike 6 miles a day. i can take 3 xnx  today and tomorrow ill switch to benadryl and digital weed inhaling d e s p e r a t e for sedation. that’s what i am. desperate to relax. laziness in not relaxing. nor is a cool complacency, kicking off your shoes sucking on your decaf staring at the screen. nor is interacting online. time travel is here: you can put all your thoughts in an electronic void and it goes to a nonplace. you travel out of time. it’s 2019 and yr prize for surviving is choosing to not exist at all, shifting in the blankets, looking for the crevice that will hold your rib cage expand contract ex pa a n d    contract  until it doesn’t. there’s another box for that but it will be good you ‘ll be relaxed and, finally!, you won’t feel a thing.

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