(no subject)
Holy shit...I forgot this damn thing was here. Hell I've forgotten everything recently. I've been so deluged with homework--and yes!!!,Joy!!!--ANOTHER FUCKING LIFE CONSUMING RESEARCH PAPER!!! It's so nice to hear everyone say, but Lehman--you're good at research--yeah? Fuck you. So one thing I've been dying (HA!) to say recently TERMINAL,terminal,TERMINAL,Terminal,TERMINAL,TeRmInAl,terminal. Such a lovely word. Yay me! Yay cancer! Fuck it, I'm dancing. As always I'm laughing on the way to my execution. Ironic that it's my own body that's going to kill me, instead of my reflexes being off that proverbial nanosecond, or the slug with my name on it. Yeah and did I mention the breakdown? Yeah...stress-induced (but strangely enough not cancer related) breakdown. It was a minor breakdown (adjustment disorder, as a phrase, just seems so entirely inadequate)Life has been good...went out to dinner with the remainder of my temple brethren and saw my ex, her(now)husband, and a child that may or may not be mine. Lost it right there (always wondered what would happen when I saw her) but fortunately my brothers were able to restrain me...eight of them...so yeah, terminal,but not fucking weak. Not yet anyway. In other news...told Shannon I loved her...she loves me and it's all good right? What the fuck? Are you new? Shortly after this went down she 'lets slip' that she's planning on killing herself. I'm the only thing that's stopped her thus far. So I broke up with her. Fuck it. Do you need me to hold the gun? Do you want me to pull the trigger too? I fucking give up on women. My life has officially just become too short to care.So the big question is...if I'm terminal, as my doctor insists, why does he keep telling me I need fucking radiation therapy? Chemo? What?Why?To what end? Make the rest of my short,happy life a little more miserable? And yet...I keep getting up in the morning. Haven't quite sussed out why that is, just yet. I've been beyond suicidal for god knows how long now (I refuse to get sick,get weak and allow people to watch me die)I keep practicing GongFu, and Taijichuan Qigong, in some effort to beat this shit. Marines=not allowed to die without permission and all that. Even though I passed my fitness test (barely) I decided not to rejoin the Corps at this juncture...and now I'm wondering exactly what my reason was...cause I seem to have forgotten. Oh yeah...the full physical I would've needed to command troops again, would've revealed that...well fuck.For no apparent reason, while I was sitting in my office today--did I mention I have my own office? and my own extension? I'm somebody now,dammit! I have a low level supervisory position *hurrah* no raise of course...fuck it. I have my bike. I achieved my personal high speed record a couple of weeks ago...you know...when that big sky thingy...makes the planet warm,um,er...makes things bright?Oh yeah,the sun! When the sun was out I ramped her up to 132 mph. A personal best with this machine. It was cool the way she was about to do the tank-slapper thing and throw me off.She's so cute when she tries to kill me! <3 my bike. Where was I? Oh yeah...sitting in my office today and just sort of burst into tears for a second. I made it through psych class, by repeatedly stabbing myself in the wrist with an ink pen (pain diversion techniques courtesy the U.S.M.C.) to keep myself from focusing on the incredible pain and loneliness I was feeling. It occured to me that I never honestly grieved for the loss of my son. So I'm doing that now. Eventually, some point this summer, assuming summer does in fact arrive, I'm going to go out, find myself a suitably attractive woman, throw her on the back of my bike and book it for somewhere...somewhere,anywhere that isn't here. It is my contention that one can in fact, run from their problems. And I fully intend to do that. Even if it's just for an hour.Yep. Happiness is somewhere out there in front of my bike's wheel. I just have to find it.