September 19th, 2005

Dance

Still Ill

And the illness continues unabated. If anything I feel worse. Today was spent hanging out with people and trying not to exert effort. The worst part was when mythic came in wanting to go for a walk, I tried to get up, and my legs decided they were having none of that. Fucking body. The worst part about accepting one's body as a part of oneself, rather than just a shall that encases one's mind (see Summer Revelations, chapter 6) is that being sick becomes a lot more personal.

Then there are issues of confusion not to be clarified publicly, though said confusion will be aired like so much dirty laundry. Decisions are difficult enough the first time around and for this reason I make it a personal policy not to second-guess myself. Worry and fret, yes, but decisions are final. But now I question. And no, it's not that decision (he said to the one person that actually understands the reference). There are wheels within wheels here.

Tomorrow is Talk Like a Pirate Day. I never got quady's clothes so I think I'm just going to do jeans and a t-shirt. I may bring a discman with a few burned CDs with me. Get it? Get it?

That's it, I'm headed to bed. Peace.