It feels like the end of the week. More accurately yesterday felt like the end of the week and today feels like penance for something long rooted in my past. It’s been plodding and the highs and lows of sugar and caffeine have kept my spirits hopping frantically.
Something happened to my knee yesterday. Once again, it feels like I’m paying for past crimes, but my knee just started acting all types of fucky. There’s a tension on the inner side of my right kneecap probably caused by adductor tension or hamstring tightness or the fact that my right hip flexor is an asshole that hates me (likely because I’m beautiful. Or the fact that I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die). I took advantage of my physio benefits by using them for exactly the reason we have them. I booked a passive session to have my knee poked, prodded and generally massaged. The guy took to my fascia with one of these knuckle duster style torture devices and flexed the joint around. He then moved through the surrounding areas, working into hip imbalances and shoving his thumb into my groin. I don’t know if it’s the exposure to sex positive communities, but I’ve become awfully apathetic about people edging close to my pubic region in the name of good health. I left last night feeling fantastic, then woke up with the pain having shifted into my patella/femur, so it was right back in to get that sorted today. Now I’m wearing my brace and I guess my knee knows what it’s like to wear a supportive bra. It’s nothing major, but I’m supposed to let my knee rest this weekend.
Well great, now it looks like I’ll have to ditch all those Muay Thai vigilantism plans that I’d been looking ever so forward to. How am I supposed to make crime pay when I need to take care of myself? Keeping out of trouble in lieu of preventing the frothy scum bubbling up in our society from drowning us all in sudsy swill? How can I Muay Thai solely with elbows? How will that strike fear into the hearts and joints of ne’er–do–wells across The Six (as The Kids call it).
Also why do I sound like I’m drunk right now? I’m not, but I do plan on commending the ingredients of my poison’d chalice to my own lips. I could go for a La Fin du Monde or two. or is tonight a Four Loko evening? I feel like being in a fun, flippant mood. Is invoking the capricious spirit of Four Loko worth it? Would you try to catch lightning in a bottle? Would you take the risk, knowing you could truly feel alive as you never have before? What worth have life if not to be lived?
Or are these the mad ravings of a junky questing in vain to justify his doomed persuasions?