I think that I'm hulled up in bed this morning for a very real reason probably mostly to do with the man outside cleaning up the neighborhood trees who is pushing sixty and serious stalker status. I was gonna go to help my mother with her bean situation but my ride is just shitty enough that I probably shouldn't go anywhere I don't have to.
There's hope that I'll get a sitter for tonight to watch the fights with my favorite person on the planet these days. I used to really abhor UFC and all it stood for, but there's this really interesting dynamic at play in the ring and I'm captivated by it. I still believe that the only two true forms of human connection are fighting and fucking so obviously you can see why I would finally find myself on the other end of this thing.
I think it's about being open to it. I'm not just going to sit around here and pretend like I'm all lover and no fighter. That would be a lie. I have enough rage to choke a rhino.
I think realizing this has been difficult, but now that I'm open to it, I'm accepting it... I fight. I have to. All the time.