Monday - Light jog or brisk walk.
Tuesday - Arms & Chest
Wednesday - Jog & Legs
Thursday - Flexibility & Rest
Friday - Rest
Saturday - Light jog, Arms & Chest
Sunday - Jog & Abs
I have been running and on Tuesday and Thursday I have dance class fairly consistently, however I have given little attention to my arms, chest, and abs. It's time for a new commitment to eat healthier and take better care of my body.
Aside from my usual venting sessions, I will be using this blog to keep track of my progress.
It's a terrible terrible thing; going against your "good" nature. My mother taught me right from wrong, my father taught me my work ethic.
I taught myself truth. Beyond what I was taught in Sunday school.
I remember when I got my first job. I had to walk the overpass just above the major highway that passed through the valley my adolescence had me chained to. I would mostly walk with my head down. Passing all the imperfections in the pavement, all of the roly polys that were stuck legs-in-the-air, and all of the plastic bags dancing above the traffic below.
I remember asking myself, why? What does it all mean? Why is that crack there? Is it meant for me to stumble?
I also remember agreeing that everything had an innate purpose. Of course my eyes were blinded by the Jesus Camp brain washing that had taken place for the worse half of eighteen years, so I always gave God partial credit... for that.
My point being I quickly distinguished the difference between "right" and "wrong," being completely removed from "good" and "evil." This, I can truly thank my parents for.
But now... now I have this ex-lover.
I can feel myself playing the game again. Getting in with his friends, going to the gym to alpha-male-it up, saying small things to spite him when in the company of others.
Being in his presence is truly unavoidable. He's currently a student choreographer alongside me in our production course. Thank goodness he isn't in any of my dances or I might commit social suicide.
But I want him to feel awful for leaving me, even though I knew it was going to end the very minute it began. I think to myself [insert "This is normal"]. I chose rather to say that I am selfish by nature.
I think we all are. Selfish.
Even though we have a desire to seek perfection, which is at times an obsession of mine, we can never reach the imaginary bubbles of the ideal we float above our heads. My last bubble was what I called the "five-year plan," which was to graduate and be married in five years. This was the expectation I had fabricated when I turned 21. Constantly reaching for approval from others.Yearning desperately for the morning that I would wake up and suddenly have everything. I'm 23 now and that bubble has burst. I'm not closer to my goals, but I have lived a much happier life since I realized how unrealistic those expectations had become.
I have also learned a few golden nuggets since then. There's nothing wrong with porn. It's wonderful. You can feel however you want about it, but I think it's one of the only thing that keeps people sane in times such-as-these. Something to think about.
Well I will continue to go with my good-natured, porn-loving, selfish self to claim a stake in this world. If I happen to stumble upon the secret to perfection along the way I will gladly share it with you. Until then, I can only suggest that you love yourself for who you are today and embrace the imperfections as the only thing making you unique and beautiful in this fucked up world.
Yours truly,
Anonymous Self Exposure
AnonymousSelfExposure@yahoo.com for questions or topic suggestions.
I am not a professional writer. That being said, I have a confession to make; several actually. I consider myself a pretty normal person. I know, shocking. Yet, there are these moments that I find so unique, so visceral, most often about love, most often about my heart.
You know that feeling where all you want to do is go to the gym, but you can't seem to bring yourself to actually go? I'm stuck here, like the idiot in front of the "You Are HERE" map at the mall. So I felt the needed to do something.
I have a therapist. Just so you know. That's not what this is. You and I. You're just the befriended homeless war vet that doesn't know up from down. Or that's how I prefer to feel about divulging my innermost secrets to a complete stranger.
This is perfectly normal.
Even wanting to be heard, albeit by said homeless war vet, is normal; I think. So here goes...
I had a nightmare last night. Something I've been fearing to become a reality very soon. My ex-lover finding a satisfying relationship. You see, we only recently drifted apart. And, while this isn't the first time I've held this fear close to my heart, there's nothing like fresh wounds to bring up old _____s (noun). I hate it when I can't think of a word. Perhaps I'll remember to fill it in later. I'm certain it'll come to me.
This too is normal.
I am pathetic. I can't count how many relationships I've been in. This is said in the least whorish way possible. While the number itself I'm certain can be counted in less than twenty fingers, it has more to do with my suppressing them to my subconscious than a stretch to remember some ridiculous number.
And I don't know why it bothers me so much when others find happiness. I guess I just feel so alone. Even when I'm with someone. I've only ever felt unified once before, and we were too much alike that we overdosed on each other almost overnight.
This too is normal.
Now I'll tell you what is not normal. Just for the sake of getting it out of the way. I am a professional webcam model, I sometimes eat my boogers, I have stuck my penis up my own butt-hole before, I am mildly obsessed with Lady Gaga, I sometimes lie to make my life seem more together (even to my therapist), and I have issues with being in a relationship even during the "falling-in-love" stage.
What is the point today? I'm not sure.
One of my creative "releases" has become dance. This semester (yes I'm still a college boy), I turned to choreography. I have created a piece to Josh Groban's Awake. I despise the fact that the dance is about my ex-lover, and so many others for that matter. The song is about that moment when you know that it's the very last time you will see someone, just before you say goodbye:
So keep me awake to memorize you,
Give me more time to feel this way,
We can't stay like this forever,
But I can have you next to me,
Today.
I just realized on Thursday that at the end of the dance I die. I kill myself of a broken heart and everyone else forgets me. As Josh Groban's voice raises into it's last falsetto crescendo I release my spirit into the universe. I'm left wondering, is this all there is? Will I be forgotten? Will I make my mark. Will I ever do any of the things I've set out to?
The answer is yes. I plan to jump-start my life this morning and get my ass to the gym, I plan on reading more books and going on more hikes, I plan on being alive. This is not to ignore the sadness or pain of my severed relationships, but to celebrate who I am and remember that every day is a blessing.
From now on I plan to document my successes as well as my failures. I hope to find the former to outweigh the latter. Yours truly,
Anonymous Self Exposure.
Ps. I've never considered myself much for words. If you have any questions for me you can email me at anonymousselfexposure@yahoo.com I promise to answer even the tritest of questions.
