A pair of no good rubber bands for arms today. Were I to hold on to some air I'd probably drop it to the floor and watch it crack in several places, thankfully I'd be in a good place though for it'd float right back because it's not glass.
Now holding glass is something I'll have to worry about lest it carpet my floors with a million diamond like shards, quick to puncture and draw slits on bare feet..Imagine all the wet bloody footprints in my house. Though of course they won't be all THAT visible, for the floors are a wonderful terracotta tinted brown and I've strayed from the point.
My arms, that feel like I've traded them for some cooked noodles, courtesy upper body and core workout.
I can feel them shaking or rather vibrating and typing feels like an almost ethereal function. Fingers? what are those?
Everything below shoulders and shoulders included has turned into this sore raw wound that talks each time I even breathe a little.
A pair of aching delusions for limbs that vibe with a torture chamber.
If horses were to draw them apart (my arms) I'd probably give a friendly nod and ask for an encore because that'd be far more pleasurable than letting them hang down my sides.
Why did I do this to myself today?
probably because I was full of zeal and looking outside the window gave me such an annoyed feeling what with the enthusiastic cimmerian shade and apocalyptical murky tint that I resolved to drown my bleak mood in wholesome workout, except the dimness from the world out eclipsed my mood in twin shades of pessimistic dejection that I probably drove myself catatonic with my arms.
Talk about masochism.
I feel like I've infiltrated desecrated grounds of self pain infliction and drove myself hard impaling on self hate stake, but don't think me unhappy, for exercising releases happy hormones and these are probably my extremely joyous hormones talking, albeit on a bad day.
Now holding glass is something I'll have to worry about lest it carpet my floors with a million diamond like shards, quick to puncture and draw slits on bare feet..Imagine all the wet bloody footprints in my house. Though of course they won't be all THAT visible, for the floors are a wonderful terracotta tinted brown and I've strayed from the point.
My arms, that feel like I've traded them for some cooked noodles, courtesy upper body and core workout.
I can feel them shaking or rather vibrating and typing feels like an almost ethereal function. Fingers? what are those?
Everything below shoulders and shoulders included has turned into this sore raw wound that talks each time I even breathe a little.
A pair of aching delusions for limbs that vibe with a torture chamber.
If horses were to draw them apart (my arms) I'd probably give a friendly nod and ask for an encore because that'd be far more pleasurable than letting them hang down my sides.
Why did I do this to myself today?
probably because I was full of zeal and looking outside the window gave me such an annoyed feeling what with the enthusiastic cimmerian shade and apocalyptical murky tint that I resolved to drown my bleak mood in wholesome workout, except the dimness from the world out eclipsed my mood in twin shades of pessimistic dejection that I probably drove myself catatonic with my arms.
Talk about masochism.
I feel like I've infiltrated desecrated grounds of self pain infliction and drove myself hard impaling on self hate stake, but don't think me unhappy, for exercising releases happy hormones and these are probably my extremely joyous hormones talking, albeit on a bad day.
