Don't stop, don't you dare stop now

It is now two days after my graduation and already I've become very aware of something.

Idleness and isolation are dangerous.

So, I fought back against the degenerating forces by taking out a 7 day free trial membership to a gym.

I was barely able to bench 54% of the weight I was lifting in October. Troubling.

Later my parents went over to have Christmas at my brother's. The house was so quiet I couldn't even read. So I went to the movies by myself and saw Precious.

As I drove home, something settled over me. Something I haven't felt in a long time.

Fear

I could feel it all around me like a dark cloud. Fear of more pain. Crushing crying in your bed, no escape, almost crazy pain.

I wish I could say that I had a revelation that left me calm and assured.
I wish I could say that tomorrow I will bound off to a future filled with peace, happiness and fulfillment.

But I can't.

Here's part of a review of Precious by Emma Johnson,

"Precious does not get a fairy tale ending by any stretch of the imagination: the road ahead of her will be hard. She very well may not make it. But those tiny victories are enough to sustain her — enough to keep her alive. And those moments are precious indeed."

Even if I don't get a job tomorrow, I'm going back to that gym and I will finish a workout.

The full review

Adulthood is realizing some things

Today is the first day I have woken up without the threat... without the excuse of school.

When I moved to Rio, I stopped painting, listening to music, reading, following (and ranting about) the news and working out regularly.

When I moved to Brazil I stopped working, left my friends and no longer would bike

though the cold morning air

watching the sun rise

jamming out to my iPod.

I realize now (God it pains me to say this) that in College Station I was happy. Really happy. I loved and was loved.

I cannot go back (nor do I want to) but still, as I mulled over my nebulous future I couldn't stop repeating that as I lay in bed this morning

on this first day without the promise or threat of school,

"it was there... beauty, I saw it..."

My self-pep talk...

On May 15th, 2009, I moved out of my apartment.

I did so because I was moving to Brazil:
1. I had no plan.
2. No job.
3. No contacts.
4. Fair knowledge of Portuguese.
5. Courage... or maybe it was the just desire to leave College Station had created so much pressure in my brain the force of it exploding literally propelled me into another hemisphere.

After 6 months, my visa is up and I am back in College Station.

I still have no job.

I don't feel like a failure exactly. I have been unemployed since October when I moved to another state to escape my employer. Packed up shop. Struck the tents. Left no forwarding address...

I was living with prostitutes and a fugitive from the law to save cash until I finally moved into my parents' for a breather.

When I'm feeling a little down I look around me and see most of my friends buying houses, all set up in their careers, i.e. NOT living on a credit card, and makes me wonder... for the briefest second... if maybe I should have pursued a little more traditional path in life.

HOWEVER:
1. I am smart.
2. I am strong.
3. I am young.
4. I will have all the material garbage someday.
5. I DO have a BIZILLION amazing friends right now.
6. I am loved by a stunningly gorgeous, brilliant marvel of man who I'm also crazy about.

Come to find out: I'm pretty courageous, actually.
Or maybe it's just that pressure in the brain thing again.

The enforcer...

Last night I got drunk and told some guy that I hated him. Actually I told him I fucking hated him and would punch him in his fucking face if he kept talking.

I am not actually mean for saying this because:

1. Many times when he's speaking he doesn't seem to notice that people around him are contemplating feigning a psychotic episode in order to escape his boring. tasteless. repetitive conversation - which has been know to induce ACTUAL PSYCHOTIC EPISODES.

It was a public service announcement of sorts.

2. I was literally so drunk that I don't remember this interaction. That excuses everything.


Rock on.

let's just try again tomorrow

Today was supposed to be my first day of productivity.

Sadly, it was that type of winter day that can best be described as intensely overcast. So intense that all the intensity down to the last electron is concentrated in the atmosphere's producing shitty weather.

No energy remains in the universe for the human population to accomplish anything productive.

Like paying attention when turning right on red at a light.

(I don't see what the big deal was: THERE WAS NO DENT!)

I went to have lunch with a friend, and my eyes were closing on me by the time the check arrived. Strange since I had woken up a mere two hours ago after sleeping for a solid 13.

At first I was troubled.

Then I remember that I have SIX pillows on my bed.

I slept all afternoon.

Thesis the end...

Okay.

After sitting here all day it is time to consider what I have accomplished.

I have been "working" on this thesis since 7:45
(I hit the snooze button a few times).
I have not run.
I have not molded my gluts.
unless you count widening them by consuming large amounts of ice cream as "molding".

Now I have a stomach ache.

This blog is about me setting out as an adult.

An adult who eats chocolate and chats on MSN in order to avoid completing the last assignment of his undergraduate career.

GPR. EMPLOYMENT. LATIN HONORS. EXPECTATIONS. GOALS.

Senseless words. Execrable garble.

I would literally prefer to shuffle around my parents' house in a bathroom until they throw me out.
I then spend the rest of my pathetic days guarding my hoard of cardboard and sponge bathing in the public library.

Who says I don't have a plan?

OKAY PEOPLE!!

THIS IS FUCKING IT!

NO MORE!

When I moved to Rio de Janeiro I got sick. I got tired. My intestines led a revolt against my sanity.

I am now at my parents' house, which is isolated and brimming with hot meals and soft blankets resting on the tops of king-sized pillow top mattresses. WHAT UP, BITCHES?!

In the past few days I have slept.

A lot.

We're talkin border line cat metabolism, people. I take 30 minute steam baths that leave my lips chapped and my muscles relaxed like I'd chugged a bottle of NyQuil... oh wait...

NO MORE!

I'm pulling it together NOW!

Babar writes theses like they were posted notes.
He speaks five languages.
He bench presses Volkswagen beetles...

Starting tomorrow, no more of this sleeping in CRAP!
I'm dragging my tuckus out from under the down comfort at 7:00 am.
I'm going to run and mold my gluts!
I'm finishing this #*@%*$@!! THESIS TOMORROW!