Monday, April 1, 2013

ad nauseum

in the interest of satisfying my perpetual urge to make the most of my angst and misery, i have developed a new hobby...i call it extreme's how it works......pick a subject...any subject...the only prerequisite being that it is something that you can worry about [it's best if you pick a subject that you know you shouldn't think about], you make about four or five pots of coffee...[no food, you'll thank me later]...and make sure you have enough tobacco around to make your lungs bleed...then, you sit just frigging sit there and think about's a good idea to start with the basics...simply dwell on the existence of the problem...piss and moan about how unfair life can be and do the whole "why me?" routine...dabble here and there in denial so that you can feel the shame of naivete once denial ultimately fades into a despondent acceptance of reality...when you have your footing, you can move on to envisioning various horrific outcomes to the situation and your complete inability to deal effectively with absolutely any of order to maintain a feeling of helplessness [which is vital to achieving proper form], it's a good idea to depart from concern for the future occasionally and consider the present...remember...right now, there are things occurring, regarding the subject at hand, over which you have absolutely no control...all of the events that will lead to the most negative of aftermaths could be happening as you sit this time, [with proper technique, of course] you should begin to feel nauseous from the slight but steady, long-term trickle of adrenalin into your blood ...let the negative thoughts intensify in frequency and severity with the increase of the pounding heartbeat in your ears...with the ashtray overflowing and the coffee pots emptied, the nicotine and caffeine should keep your empty stomach from feeling like it will implode, and you can push yourself further than you previously thought gastroenterologically possible...for your sprint to the finish line you should shift over from worry to regret...give yourself the emotional and moral equivalent of an old-fashioned woodshed ass whoopin' could you have been so stupid?...when will you ever learn?...questions such as these are necessary to convince yourself that you are doomed to a future of epic fuck-ups...allow the regret of mistakes you have yet to make to come rushing in...agonize about the unknowable details of these future excursions from an acceptable are limited only by your imagination...oh...i forgot to mention the bucket...if you've done everything correctly up to this point, you will need it now for the inevitable crescendo...after ten to fifteen minutes of violent, back-breaking retching, you can feel free to pass out on the floor, twitching uncontrollably in a puddle of sweat...the truly adept will lie naked and motionless in the shower with a blank expression until long after all of the hot water is gone...i'm thinking about petitioning the international olympic committee to have this added as an event in the advanced neurotic behaviors category...i just haven't figured out if the winner is to be determined using a stopwatch or a measuring cup...

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