Drone

I feel like I've said everything here that I have to say. It's not a Bible, to study, so some repetition is not unreasonable, but I don't really like to repeat myself. And the message nowadays is getting monotonous. Sorry for that. But I'm not kidding when I say it's not about you. Someone like me, who finds it pretty much impossible to trust -- where can I make my confidences? In my carefully maintained anonymity, here. I am not however incognisant of your attention. Is it frustrating for you, seeing me chew at my own leg, trying to escape?

The left side of my body is in pain. The shoulder is oddly tweaked still. A severely pulled muscle in my back, lower lat, spasming. Did something to my knee during the last workout, felt the bones grind at the start of the thrusters, narrowed my stance but I'm feeling it now. Bjj is a huge strain on the body, and I'm just getting back into it, so it's even worse. When I first started I had to take four separate weeks off for four different back muscle pulls. I suppose I have to take warming up more seriously. I do it more as a stretching thing, work out the kinks, mostly knees and lower back. I don't even know what to do with the upper back, which is the problem area.

Point is, some time has freed up and I'd planned on rolling more. It will be very irritating if I can't. I'll see how it goes when I wake up. If I can, I will roll. Smart? Dear child, it's not about being smart. If I were sensible I'd be happy. You have caught no glimpse of the demons that drive me. It bores me, being so interesting. It's so adolescent to be tortured. If I could compromise I would. It's not that I'm disinterested -- wrong word, but I can't be honest enough to use the right one -- it's that I'm ... but I can't be that honest either. Even here, I can't trust. It has to do with punishment. It makes me sad, because I don't deserve to be punished, and I'm doing it to myself.

I've learned not to make decisions when I'm like this. Rollercoasters are supposed to have ups and downs. I don't have ups. I stay steady, level, or plunge into the depths. I think that's better than being euphoric. That would be bipolar, and I wouldn't take the meds.

Thank you for your interest in my little blog. If I knew you better I would love you. If you knew me better you'd think I was pathetic. That's why I write this blog, one reason. You don't know, or shouldn't, when I'm serious, or how serious. So I tell myself. It makes it possible to tell as much truth as I do.

I was going to delete this, or bury it in the unpublished drafts. I do that a fair bit, with this sort of go-nowhere mewling crap. But this is the price of being my internet pal. Some of it is actually good. Some it it just drones on about my dark feelings. It's sort of like a friendship. Your friends are not perfect. They're human. If they're real, their faults will show. Irritating, but so are you. If you're not, it's because you're even more self-protected than I am. And if that's the case, you don't have any friends, because the person they think they know, they don't. Loyalty acknowledges the shortcomings of a friend, and stands by him anyway. That's what I hope for. If I hope at all.

I see life as a workout. Tues I did a pretty tough one, in a pretty good time. It's something that you just grind through, and when you're done you look at your time and feel good or not good about it. But as I was grinding it out, I felt fine. I was steady, and there was some coaching, which is an encouragement. That's like what life is. It's not supposed to be enjoyable. It's about the result. Of course I'm wrong, but then again I'm not. Yeah. Encouragement helps. It's about a sense of pace. I've done this before -- I can do it better now. That's how we persevere.

I spend too much time alone. Too many of my sentences start wiith I. I know this. But it's my blog, and it's my life, and because I spend so much time alone I'm selfish. Even when I had a family I was selfish. I was just better at getting over it. What ever is to become of me.

I worry about Jack. I know most of his secrets, and the guy's a mess. He needs a massage.


J