(no subject)
i hate society's need to look beautiful and physically fit at all times in order to be accepted. and more than i hate that need, i hate that i, too, have fallen into those needs. since forever [well, if since 11th grade counts as 'since forever'] ive wanted a chiseled body. and have come somewhat short. since i know that i will going to smu, where all of the guys look like brad pitt from fight club [and with comparable bank accounts] i figured, i might as well emulate that physique. so, i began my weightlifting again. i did this really tough exercise with my brother called "the burnout" which is supposed to give you amazing biceps. but i havent done it since winter of the 11th grade. and i noticed that afterwards, it was ridiculously hard for me to stretch my arms. so i waited it out till the next day, and noticed no change. no ease from pain, no relinquish from martyrdom, no subsiding of woe. ladies and gentlemen, i have torn both of my arm ligaments. after researching it, talking to a few dancers about it, and asking my dad, i seem to meet the symptoms required. so for the next week or so, simple tasks as raising my arms over my head will be like trying to pick up oprah, rosie o donnell, and alene haehl all at the same time. my mom tells me i should go to the doctor, but i dont want to leave the place finding out that i have torn ligaments and cancer. but when i am revived from my arm-less state. i, like the rest of society, will continue on my voyage to look better than the next guy.