Journey through broken fingers - Week 3

Sunday - 0 min

Monday - 0 min

Tuesday - 0 min

Wednesday - 0 min

Thursday - 0 min

Friday - 38 min

Saturday - 1 hr 9 min

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Total - 1 hr 47 min

9996 hrs 30 min left.

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A proper way to handle a toddler brain

"I'm tired. I'm sick and fucking tired of your constant bitching and moaning over this. We... I... need to go through this, and maybe, just fucking maybe, succeed in something for a change. For the past four-fucking-teen years, because of your shit I was sitting there, afraid to move, afraid to even fart wrong in case you suddenly decide that 'oh shit! this breeze sounds unpleasant! Shut down all systems!' and have me flop on the ground like a fish. Because of your shit I'm afraid to leave this little shed I call home one extra time.

Because of your shit I'm trapped here, waiting, begging for release.

The five-week course should've sufficed, but no, every time we went there, you decided to raise hell on me and have me stove off auras and pretend to be a normal human.

But I want to remind you something, you fucking toddler: you need me as much as I need you, and you know what? Maybe I don't need you as much as you think. Maybe, after fourteen years, I'll just give up.

This fight is getting really tiring.

So here's a little proposition: today, after the walk, I come home, make the bed, take the pills, and you shut the fuck up. And if you decide to interfere with today's training, I will take the knife on the so called kitchen table, and rip my carotids, because at this point I don't care anymore. Fourteen years is a lot of time wasted, buddy.

So that's today's plan: get home, take pills, make bed, and train. No further bullshit. Under-fucking-stood?!"

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Certainly, talking to your own brain as if it were a separate, autonomous entity is a bit strange. Thankfully, this "conversation" happened at roughly 5:40 am, so no people were outside. There were a few Jewish people, but they cared more about going to the synagogue they were headed and far less about a man with a hobo beard, muttering to himself in an angry tone.

Regardless, scolding my brain about being a dick (which was not uncalled for) and threatening rather violent, painful suicide worked out quite nicely.

The workout in these two days turned out to be quite intense. So intense, actually, that I'm mildly injured, as of today. My right ring finger is sprouting a little piece of fresh dermis - the inner skin layer, exposed to the outside air. Normally, this shouldn't happen.

Let's talk about the rest of the week, though.

Sunday - sick as a dog. Sniffles, coughing, sneezing like a middle aged father.

Monday - still sick, but not as much. Just couldn't gather the strength. There's something awkward about watching yourself sit and actively procrastinate.

Tuesday - STILL sick, but notably better. Still procrastinating.

Wednesday - Auras. OK, this is the only time not practicing can be excused. Fucked me up nicely. Felt like shit starting about 12:00.

Thursday - Bad sleep. Spent the day extremely tired because I made a crucial mistake on Wednesday: masturbating before sleep. This had me get up every ten minutes, and go to the bathroom. I've become some sort of physics-defying creature, pissing FAR more than I took. Possibly far more water than I've consumed through the entire day! Somebody get me... uh... Elon Musk! There's possibly a tiny black hole in my urethra or something. There's no way in hell my body could hold this much liquid and not explode!

Friday - The first morning where I practiced the "pep talk". It was quite pleasant training on that day.

Saturday - Another pep talk. Today, however, something snapped inside of me. Despite the pain, I craved practicing more and more until Yousician, despite having a goddamn premium subscription, told me I need to get ANOTHER premium subscription on top of it, if I want to play with it for more than an hour. The extra nine minutes came from playing this song (this isn't me playing, though) over and over because it's so damn fun to play!

My fingers kept fucking up on this (again, not me) weirdly, so most of the time was spent on trying to perfect that goddamn song. It pissed me off more than I care to admit.

Fuck it. I give up. These are going to be published on Sundays instead of Saturdays.

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