none of this was written with an audience in mind. ok. maybe just a little.
good morning, world!
i was up at 4:40 A motherfuckin’ M today. but i’m not complaining. it was voluntary. this is how i get up at 4:40am. i sit up really fast right after i slam my alarm clock into an abyss of silence. then i peer around my room, as if seeing it for the first time. then i make a split-second decision: body slam myself back over into the good world of warmth and darkness (i.e., the womb) or body slam myself up and out into the cold unforgiving sterility of real life.
but i was loopy as a box of trix. so i needed no comfort. i just sprang up like a sunflower in the 3rd grade school play.
but it was beautiful. i danced. i danced. i danced around my room. and it was uncoordinated as hell. and hideous to watch. there was no music. i felt possessed and driven to make frantic and illogical circles with my arms and my hips and my legs.
yes i watched a little as i danced. that’s who i am. a self-voyeur.
then i was doing moon god/five point star rotations in yoga. and even though yoga is non-competitive. i always try and make it competitive. when i see an old man struggling, i try extra hard to look extra awesome at yoga. and sadly for him, i usually succeed. and he probably doesn’t give two shits, but i do. oh, do i. i was rocking those five point stars. i also got to see what gravity and time does to old man bottoms in spandex. instead of judging, i just stared.
and then as soon as i walked into the women’s lockerroom, i came face to face with two areolae (plural of areola, as i was so nicely informed) staring me in the mug. this reminded me of two things: nudity and my height. they looked like eyes. we made “eye” contact. it was too early for two areolae. maybe one i could have handled better. i slightly lost composure.
but in other news of regaining composure, the remnants of last weekend are becoming dilute. thank goodness.
in conclusion, as i was walking to the subway this morning, i kept seeing all these beautiful woman. it really made me sad i’m not a lesbian. the ratio of hot women to hot men could not have been any lower than 7:1. but actually, no, i think i would want to be a straight man. so i could sleep with all of these women. and talk about it brashly. and slap other guys’ asses while doing it. yeah. now that’s more like it.
oh yeah. shoutout to lucky bar posse. consider me the lucky one.