Living Dead
Five years from now I'll most likely be dead. There's just too many things going wrong with my body. And this, despite my generally healthy lifestyle. I eat a more or less balanced meal (at least, since last year) and exercise regularly. I take quick breaks from work, knowing full well that much of it involves endless hours sitting in front of the computer and that without the occasional breaks my eyes will fall out of their sockets and my butt will atrophy from the inactivity. The joke is that I am a walking argument for sedentary lifestyles: look at where all my health-consciousness gets me. I comfort myself by thinking of it this way: I am genetically predisposed to contracting stupid illnesses, and I can only imagine how worse my condition is if I didn't live the way I am living now.
Sometimes, it assures me. Other times, I just think about the things I did in life and accep the fact that this is me paying for the indulgences of youth. I am being punished (or, I am punishing myself) for the sins of my past.
Sometimes, it assures me. Other times, I just think about the things I did in life and accep the fact that this is me paying for the indulgences of youth. I am being punished (or, I am punishing myself) for the sins of my past.