I can’t go to a gym.
I purchased a membership but like, I can’t.
I don’t like being around people like that, it’s a time to devote an hour and quite literally work on yourself.
Seems personal to me.
I don’t need you other fucks glancing at me, while I’m thinking about shit, while I’m angry and trying to push through.
What I can do is snack on it.
I aimlessly pace around so frequently, it’s nothing to hang a pull-up bar and bang a little more each day. I’ll just shoot off, get the brain clicking and I’ll walk around, wiggling my fingers.
Odd behavior?
No doubt, but parallel to wanting.
It’s nothing to bang out a few, to hit a bench, several times a day,because otherwise I’m just pacing around, spinning wheels, anyways.
I don’t like being around the people that have already won the battle, I don’t like the gaze of a winner, not when I’m trying to fight the loser. Fuck off with that. Rather do it on my own, and yes time is ticking, life short AF, that’s fine.
Winners don’t get blanket respect, not over here.
You’ll still be rotting in the ground someday.
So I giggle.
dawn 