I am unsure what happened this morning. It felt out of my control, unstoppable. I masturbated once and shot a monster load but something compelled me, minutes later, to go at it again. The first shot was in the bed, the next round was in the shower. I was working at harder and faster than I should be capable. THe term “masturbate furiously” was a joke in college but it was no joke today. I felt parts of my body getting sore or requesting my attention. Left arm pain is supposed to be a scary symptom of something. I’ve had left arm pain on occasion but always blamed it on the shoulder bag. I don’t know what this AM was about but I was scaring myself. I nearly fell over on the subway platform, but looked forward to the ride and the calmness of being at a desk at the office. I feel calm now after 2mg of Lorazapam but I fear I came closer to a heart attack than I want to admit. I’m inclined to dub this an anxiety/panic attack, though. I’ve been hating on my life lately and wanting a way out. The job is not fulfilling and I barely relate to anybody here. THis job is wasting me. Waste is a meanness.
I walked yesterday, after sleeping a little late and sitting in the shower for 2 hours. 16,000 steps, I think. Not bad. Up Astoria and East Elmhurst again, like last week, but not as far up to the Buccaneer Diner. Only went up to 81st Street. I started talking to myself, outloud, by calling my private phone number where I collect Blue Radio content. I was talking about my pursuit of a stripper I dated some years ago, and how the encounter left me angry and even fearful. There was an incident where, if she had access to a weapon, she would have used it on me. Believe it or not that was not the last time I stayed with her. True to my ability so summon abusive relationships and behaviors from people who probably never explicitly targeted me to begin with. She was a cruel, serial liar with a lot of lies to keep track of. For me she’s proof that you don’t get what you want in life, but you do get what you ask for. I may have never pursued a woman with the earnestness and determination I summoned to get her attentions. I march past her house these days like it is a duty. An homage of sorts. I want her to see me to remind herself of the lies she told, the lies she lives. I may have been the only man in her life to call her out on her lies. It made her uncomfortable, as I guess it would.
