2001-03-27 || 05:02 p.m.

|| worry number 42,988 ||

this is the first time i have ever begun to worry about my body. this body. because you only get one, you know. your cells may be recycled every seven years and you may leave strands of your hair all over the greater continental united states and bones heal and scars fade and all of that, but you only get this one physical body.

which is such a bad shame.

but i haven't given much thought to reincarnation.

but. this: my lungs are crackly and black in spots, i am sure. my aorta might have some of that tapioca pudding in it like that non-smoking commercial is threatening. i think my teeth are growing translucent. this left arm hurts when i use it too much. my right eye hasn't been seeing very well.

i could cut this finger off so easily. i could plunge a knife through my chest. i could poke my eye out with a stick. i could run with scissors.

and cancer grows in my family.

and bad hearts.

and degenerative mental illness.

i am going to start wearing a helmet.

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