“Dizzy”

Every day I’m dying from something new. One day it’s a clogged heart. The next day it’s colon cancer. Many days it’s lack of sleep. Others it’s too much sleep.

Every day I’m dying from dizziness. It doesn’t matter if I’m doing all the healthy things or none of the healthy things. It’s always “you’re just dehydrated; drink some more water” or “it’s just a symptom of anxiety.”

Today I’m dizzy because I’m dehydrated. And anxious. So I go out for a run in the blistering heat. I wait until the sun is right above me so there is no shade and I suffer as much as possible. I bring no water, only my anxiety.

My knees are worn out. They’ve been so for years. I don’t do much to try to strengthen them. I just complain a lot and then torture them with repetitive impacts on hard concrete. At least now I have decent shoes and a decent running style. It was shit shoes and a shit running style that fucked my knees when I was in my twenties.

I breathe hard. I’m on my toes, inching forward with a minimal stride. The cemetery I run around looks inviting. Death will be the end of us all, but Death watches my attempts of avoiding it. Death encourages me to hit a bump, fall, and crack my head on the sidewalk. Death will pick me up and drop me in a hole dug for someone who is loved and had a celebrated life. My skin will crackle in the sun and I will turn into jerky. All that will be left are my good running shoes and worn out knees. My anxiety will fly away with the fireflies at night. The moon will smile down at me and say “if only you would have figured this out sooner, you could have had a happy life.”

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