KnIghtly Knews

That persistent injury turned out to be massive labral tears in my right hip. I ended up getting blood clots because of surgery. I also missed out on three job opportunities because I was completely disabled for the last three months. I have experienced being dead and have seen what the world would look like without me. The most horrifying thing about this whole experience was the total confirmation that the world could get by perfectly well without me. I am totally replaceable. I wonder if this harsh reality has ever been made as visible to other people, and if it has, how the hold their confidence. Now that it has been a month and three weeks. I am able to function again in the hip, only to have other critical systems fail me. now I can't breathe. AGAIN. Hate the body, kill the mind. resent the body, sharpen it hopefully.

Life sucks... then you die:) A good attention grabber for the subject isn't it? With a quote by Vince McMahon as a base point, how bad can life really seem? Let's explore this topic for a bit... The last thing many people say they have is their health (of course not when they're dying) I've never had this. Compared to the grand scheme of things I'm pretty sure I would have died a long long time ago as an asthmatic baby. So what is the worst that can happen to my health? I have lungs that work part time, a sleep cycle less consistent than an electron, hip flexor injury that just won't go away, creeping depression, and likely some sort of inferiority complex when it comes to doing anything with real worth. How much worse can it get? I've seen how bad life could be. Families crippled by medical debt, which honestly scares me more than my own demise. Asthma so bad that they're bed ridden and totally foreign to the world of physical activity. Real...

I am writing this at the very end of week 3 and the beginning of week 4. I have been taking painkillers far less now and can actually focus a thought or two. Lately I have been hit by an anxiety attack of sorts due to what I believe are two potential blood clots in my left arm. Now that I'm off the painkillers, I noticed how much pain my left arm is in and am able to pinpoint the pencil erasure sized lumps. Week One Every thing is agony. I feel like somebody stuffed a cantaloupe into my hip and stabbed me for the trouble.There is a constant dull pain coupled with a sporadic burning sensation. The upper potion of my right leg is massively swollen. I can hardly  sit, stand, fart, turn, crutch, or even laugh without feeling like I'm being stabbed and bludgeoned at the same time. I'm bruised all around the bandages all the way to my knee, my dick, balls, ass, and lower back. I can't push my piss out, and I can't really sit on the toilet never the less excrete. I ...

What motivates me to workout? Very simple: Being out of shape makes me feel like shit. Hacking up a lung while climbing a staircase, being immobile when you want to exert, and worst of all actually feeling sluggish and weak in body and mind. I understand that time in the gym is often a practice of seeking desirability warranted by others or for oneself. In my case it is intrinsic. I exercise in the effort to stay alive and to have a feeling of power and efficacy. I realize that I will have a very rough transition into public service since I've lived a rather posh and sheltered life physically. So I need to compensate for that and my inherent weaknesses with physical preparation. Emotionally I've been through a pretty good gamut of hell, but I also need to feel as though I can push through personal boundaries and test my limits of physical capability under emotional exhaustion. Though I also workout with a conscious effort to avoid being repulsive. Most people are perfect...

It has come to my attention that the reason people fail to achieve their goals has very little to do with a lack of ability but everything to do with a lack of persistence. I need to find a binding track that will force me along to where I want to be. Without that, I believe I'll find myself far too content with the status quo. I'm getting my ass in gear once my lungs work again. In the mean time, I'll try not to procrasterbate while my life needs to get started. The real world never hits... It's a void unless you fill it with something. Problem is I don't have thing that I believe in enough to fill it with. Aside from the constitution and sympathy and empathy for those without opportunities...

Typing all of your thoughts as fast as you can has a theraputic propoerty to it. now ionly if i could type fast and sccurate. and as fast as i could think i would kick osome serious ass in everything. not only arem y thought slinear, but theiry aloso sequential, usually following the format of an outline without needing one. this is the cauwesed by me writing so long ont using wrtiten outlines and iinstead writing off the ltop of myhead. problem is i write even shitteir than i type.

Is there any merit in being a good person? I don't think that it's a common compliment, that "You're the best person I know." but it's one I've recieved on multiple occasions from multiple people that I have known for long periods of time. And what do I have to show for it? a twisted sense of humor, a spoiled tone, poverty, and a shattered and arrested confidence. When will freedom and independence reign?

One day I will get in touch with my inner drive and wants. And I'm actually afraid of the animal I will become when that happens. I can sense my capability for it. Luckily I have a soft spot for sympathetic stories and underdogs, but in the right environment I can become a horrendously brutal calculating monster. I hope that whenever it does happen, It'll be in an environment where I will be forced into actions that are beneficial to the system.