Thursday, July 12, 2012


Day 237: Wednesday, November 2, 2011

I wake up from a dream where I was having sex with some random, faceless person, and then my sister walked in on us. When my eyes open, I feel off. I see my phone and realize that I got a message from the girl late last night and that it was already open, but I don’t remember anything. Anyways it was about some photo book that she wanted me to see. Immediately I begin to worry that I wrote something stupid or regrettable back, so I check my sent message’s folder and find out to my relief that I had just sent her the generic thumbs up icon.

Afterwards I get up. My body is heavy and sluggish. I don’t feel like exercising today, but I force myself to go. It’s like my self has been shattered and I am just walking the steps laid out for me. While I shove dry toast down my throat, the thought of suicide flashes briefly in my head, but I know that’s stupid because it wouldn’t prove or accomplish anything… so I then wonder how to continue on. I think about liking her still with the hope that she might change her mind in the future, which starts a flicker in my chest, but then I remember her face when she told me that she didn’t like me and realize that I would just be lying to myself because it’s really over.

I finish my toast – just one today. As I put on my shoes, I tell myself, “I’m fine. I’m fine,” over and over again. When I step outside, I remember the mantra Haruki Murakami used when he ran a sixty-two mile marathon, which was:

I'm not human. I'm a piece of machinery. I don't need to feel a thing. Just forge on ahead.

At the gym, the guy who is always there shows me how to do Blue 3, which I’ve been unable to do for the past few months. After struggling a few more times, I try stretching and putting my foot somewhere new and I’m able to reach the next hold and then it is smooth sailing from there. When I grab the last hold, I feel tremendously good… but that lasts only for a short while.

After he leaves and I'm alone practicing Blue 3 again, I repeat to myself:

I'm not human. I'm a piece of machinery. I don't need to feel a thing. Just forge on ahead.

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