“When’s the last time your feet had sand on em?” - Mach Hommy
My friend Will is coming to visit in two days which is great because every single day during this injury time feels longer than the last, and not in a way that prolongs the perceived amount of time that there is in the day and thus gives one a larger window of opportunity to think positively and appreciate the little things — longer in a way such that it is hard to remember if yesterday happened one month ago or not and there is a general feeling of paranoia washing over these nerves most of the time. Working at a fast food job has actually helped the time escape and facilitate a more acute focus on development outside of what needs to be done to merely survive — and being idle here - “idle” - still doing quite a bit of work in a similar vein but ultimately lonely and obsessed in a cramped Dergano apartment and not going out or seeing the sun very much feels like going on a drug binge, relapsing, sinking back into the feelings of isolation that shaped a large part of my being growing up and ultimately tuned the resonance in my soul to a more melancholic key. Big Canadian winter jackets unable to fit anywhere else in the apartment except for the dent-in IKEA wall closet turn the place into a fucking sauna with a bunch of dust everywhere if not properly dusted every three or four days - a big ceiling fan and water cooler the only things trying their best to keep the bed from getting soaked in protein-dense ammonia smelling sweat every night, but failing. It’s like living in the inside of a computer. Fuck, winter can’t come fast enough, its on any sane person’s mind. Still, being active would obviously help - active outside of the Anytime Fitness in Ca’ Granda that beckons for a prompt return. Something that doesn’t cost money and something that can be done without travelling a long distance, something that could be done with an active partner and strengthen a bond between friends. Running is an obvious choice, and is something worth engaging with still especially since lots of friendly and motivated people of note are into it - breaking themselves down all the time and building themselves back up over and over - it’s kind of like the gym in that regard except it sucks every single time you do it forever, for months and it is never fun. That’s probably perfect on all accounts except for wanting to share that with a partner, but also thinking about wanting to get into an activity that is geared towards enjoying with somebody else kind of makes me feel like a loser. Will runs. Lots of friends run. It’s so fucking hot outside that running sounds impossible. It sounds like it costs money because of the amount of water that would have to be consumed to not pass out in this heat, and the number of loads of laundry that would need to be done throughout the week to not have everything wearable ruined all at once in a compact closet. Things that cost money and are more community oriented seem like a lot of fun. Squash seems great, nobody plays squash and doesn’t like it, but nobody plays squash. Not really in the right tax bracket for that though, not yet. One of these days the big grills in the park and at the basketball courts in Dergano might be worth visiting, but without friends to come alongside me there’s little social lubricant or a point of which to return to naturally when making ventures into the unknown. Basketball is cheap! Not sure how it would go over though just getting out there. Really there’s no excuse that should keep a 27 year old man trying to connect with a local community and make friends in the big city through a shared active pursuit from playing pick-up basketball, it’s loser behavior to rationalize otherwise and every instance of loser behavior in this soul will be marked and hunted down like a wounded buck. Never ever blowing the old self to shreds but filling it with the lead of love, ambition, and type two fun to see if it takes and changes colour. Not because a current colour is wrong or something, self love and all that whatever. Hitting your head against a plaster wall 50 times in a row because you love yourself or want to love yourself. Except trying to make friends by playing pick up basketball in the park is not hitting your head against a wall, that’s ridiculous. It’s probably something like interacting with 15 year-olds and them beasting on you because you aren’t out there on the courts like them, and then taking that shit to heart, watching basketball youtube videos for a few days, developing a mid range shot that actually goes in the net, and then not playing with 15 year old kids at the park anymore because you’re embarassed for some reason. You might rationalize that you’ve taken something from it and if somebody mentions playing basketball you’ll say something like “yeah I really like DeMar DeRozan and how he plays” and act like you mean it and that it’s not a completely stupid detail or even important to anybody who hypothetically would talk to you about basketball. You’ve already decided that that is how that is going to go and that you don’t have the nuts to put up with it somehow even though none of this even exists. Stick to getting sciatica from bad deadlift form asshole. Maybe if you work hard enough you can afford to have weekends off and use them to go to the beach. You grew up on a beach. You grew up literally right ON the beach. Why don’t you get your money up and go surfing? You have more experience surfing than 99.99999% of people when it comes to surfing even though you suck. When is the last time your feet even had sand on them?