I had about two hours of cooking and commuting to think about this post before I started writing. My first instinct was to write some morose account of my most recent chickenshit antics regarding my ex and other futile female pursuits. Fortunately, though, that inner voice of no fuck you piped up and compelled me to look on the motherfucking bright side.
So here goes:
Motherfucking Academics – Though I’m way behind schedule, the anatomy flashcarding is finally drawing to a close. The way I did the first few sections – osteology, joints and nerves – makes completing the musculature portions much easier, since a lot of the framework is already there. I should have it done within a few days. Thereafter, I can focus completely on the research for the university and get a good deal of work in. The last thing I want to tell the guy I’m working for is ‘yeah nah I couldn’t do the work I was supposed to because I have shitty attention span from playing video games all the time’. Though my ‘boss’ is practically the nicest guy in the world, who will accommodate my shortcomings with patience and understanding, I still can’t not do it. Christ, the thought of concluding my first foray into serious academic research with ‘uh, yeah, I just didn’t get around to it’, fuck that noise.
Motherfucking Physical Development – Going to the gym, along with finishing another section of anatomy, has become the highlight of my day. Little compares with beating a PR with awesome fucking music while cranked up on caffeine. It is probably on par with orgasm in terms of how great it feels. Finishing the last set to the sound of thunderous choirs and resonant drums, my muscles locking up and my limbs feeling like concrete, with my bloodstream saturated with sugar and stimulants, waves of electricity coursing up my spine, holy shit. In that moment, I feel like I’m a conduit of overwhelming power, chills flooding up and down my back with every rep. There are no thoughts of obligations or concerns or worries, only the sound of RRRAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH going through my head. That, and my face looks like I’m getting sucked off in a wind tunnel.
Motherfucking Guitar – After practicing for a thirty minutes to an hour every day for more or less a week, playing really starts to come naturally. Transitions between different positions become smooth, rhythm is easily established and kept, and playing becomes a joy rather than a frustrating chore. Though I’ve heard the pieces that I’m learning many times before, it’s a goddamn spiritual experience hearing them come alive by my own hand.
Motherfucking relationsh- fuck.
So yeah, this is where I start to sound like a broken fucking record. This original title of this post was ‘cycles’.
Ever since my balls start contending with my brain for sovereignty, there’s been a more or less constant cycle regarding my happiness at any one particular time.
The first girl I had any real feelings for, was Claire. I met her for the first time when I wrote my first exams during my first year of high school. I was fourteen. She was good-looking, overachieving and kind-hearted (a theme that would more or less continue with my romantic interests throughout the years). The teachers arranged us two at a desk, with a member of the above grade sitting next to us to mitigate cheating. Because she was a year older than me, we got paired up. On the last day of exams, just before everyone started packing up to leave, I nutted up and slid a piece of paper across the desk that read ‘do you have [phone IM app everyone used at the time]? In what was perhaps one of the most tense moments of my life, I waited until she slid it back with the scrap of paper saying ‘Yes!’ with her number written next to it.
I took her out on three dates, all of which were fucking terrifying. On the bright side, I did manage to hold her hand in the movie theater. Unfortunately, after the third date, I had an IM conversation with her friend that was slightly too risqué and things ended there. Later that year, however, we planned to meet up again. The day we were supposed to meet, a logistical error caused us to miss each other, which resulted in her meeting another guy from another school who was around my age. They were in a relationship about a month later.
They got married a few days ago.
It didn’t really bother me, to be honest. They’d both become hardcore religious over the years, so I supposed they’d become desperate to finally consummate. I mean, jesus, their conservative parents let them sleep in the same bed as teenagers. Claire had national colors for figure ice-skating, so her figure was fucking lithe; though I never really liked the guy, I’d like to give him a medal and shake his hand for having nuts of steel to hold off on sex for that long. His left hand, mind you. I sure as fuck know what he’d been doing with his right for all those years.
Anyway, I digress.
All through high school, Claire and I still kept in contact via texting and Facebook. Despite the fact that I was way behind all the other guys in high school in terms of basic skills such as game and making friends, she somehow always had a soft spot for me. While the guy she was with was more outgoing and assertive, I still had the edge on him in terms of intelligence, wit and having better taste in music (most of which consisted of some of the most cheesy shit imaginable). A couple times, it seemed as if Claire would succumb to her feelings and be with me, but it never happened. Nevertheless, my feelings for her were still hella strong.
It got to the point where I would get up at five in the morning, in winter, to fire up my desktop and look her up on Facebook. There were a bunch of photos of her and the guy up, kissing and whatnot, and that shit riled me up so much that I’d go outside with my shorts and trainers and do hill sprints.
During my adolescence, I was sure that once I had a six-pack and mad guitar skills and loads of friends, that chicks would like me. Not just Claire, but all of the girls who rejected or avoided me by virtue of the fact that I didn’t have the social competence and self-esteem granted by a normal upbringing.
In-between the hours and hours spent playing video games, masturbating and procrastinating on schoolwork, the only thing that really drove me to action was the thought of being with someone like Claire. My only experiences with the opposite sex up until my first girlfriend were brief, awkward hookups that gave me a rudimentary, trial-and-error knowledge of tongue usage and hand placement. The thought of being a in a relationship, of being liked by someone so much so as to be able to a change the hallowed Facebook relationship status and having everyone else seeing just how much this person liked me, it seemed glorious.
And that’s what drove me to hit the gym, to study harder, to take up instruments. It’s a goddamn shame that I could never fully extricate myself from the trappings of video games and the internet, but I’m goddamn grateful that I did manage to get the basics right before I went to university.
When I finally got into my first relationship at the end of high-school, it somewhat suspended me in unmotivated limbo for the duration thereof. Though the girl and me had little in common, the novelty of first love and a lost virginity compensated for the fact that we had little to talk about, and I felt little need to improve myself since I had a girl already. When it ended the first time, the cycle of high school was repeated again, with me being highly motivated to become Chad Thundercock in university. Unfortunately, due to my inability to make friends, I crashed and burned and got back together with her. Fast forward to April 2013, she leaves me, I feel destroyed, and the cycle starts again. Late last year, I really start pulling my shit together, and things look up. The other day, I text my ex and add her on Facebook after I hit another slump. She still hasn’t replied, I feel like shit, and the pain gets me fired up again. And so it continues.
How’s that for a fucking weekly update. Next week: the finer details of spinal ligaments.