Say No to Amputee Fetishism

I guess that's what relationships are like. Some friends can handle Parts A and C of you. Some can only handle part D. We all have friendships rooted in a common interest, like a gym buddy. You might have friendships that started with a shared activity but eventually deepened as you realized you had more in common. In rare cases you meet someone with whom everything just seems to fit; every new expansion of your relationship rewarded with compatibility. Even more delicious when that happens with an attractive potential romantic partner.

Sometimes I feel like I have to hide away so much of myself because I know some things will just freak people out or color their impressions of me. Just like I feel compelled to smile at people to help diffuse their judging of the big brown tattooed guy. Sometimes it feels like my world is populated with amputee fetishists. It becomes increasingly difficult to continue opening up to so-called friends when they respond poorly to certain parts of you. If something is a huge and important part of my life and a person makes a pained expression every time they get a taste of that thing, what reason is there for me to continue with them? It just gets locked off as another corridor that person won't get to share with me. Once one wall goes up it becomes increasingly easier to make more. One must have great stamina and patience if they're to continue facing that sort of rejection.

Am I just whining? I mean. Grow the fuck up. We have different relationships for different things. I've got specialist friends and generalist friends. People to get intellectual with? Check. People to train and ride with? Check. People to get fucked up with? Check. And rarely shall these groups overlap. This is the part that kills me. To the partiers I'm a closet fitness enthusiast. To my fitness friends I'm a closet hard partier. I'm always in the closet about something when really I'm interested in any new experience that comes along. And always discouraged by people's lack of curiosity.

Balance, in Moderation

Balanced life is a complicated thing. I feel like a huge contradiction and I have to hack off part of me to get along with the other extremists.

Fitness vs party.

Metal vs electronic.

Drugs vs health.

Reading vs experiencing.

Testosterone vs estrogen.

Intensity vs placidity.

How can it be so hard to find other people who can simultaneously push the limits of these things?

Held Back by Little Worlds

I remember much of the people I wanted to be when I was sober.

I remember a life I wanted to live when I knew what it meant to be alive.

I strive for meaning in a world intent on assigning value to waifs and self-indulgence.

Stomping, running and then yielding ... will open the world to our tired eyes.

We want to prance like those who came before us but we're held back by fear of the little worlds we think we're better than.