Today's Stats:

Weather: Muggy

Temperature: 90 something

1st Run Taken: 8:48am

Last Run Dropped: 5:50pm

Total Runs Completed: 24

Sangfroid Level: Thick and Thin

Well, hell. This is the first post in a while. Sorry, but I have been tired. I got sick, too. I missed work yesterday. It has also been pretty slow lately. Not much to write on, anyways. It was eerily quiet this morning. Sixth avenue was like a closet. Muted sounds and muffled voices, coming from outside, passing through an empty wall. It was hot as fire, too. My jersey stayed wet all day. The only time it was nice was coming down 7th avenue like hell. It's an air conditioner through there. That steady breeze rising from who knows where. You think its the ocean, but then you get down there and SoHo's sitting in the way like a haggard old fence that's been painted way too many times, yet still stands, if only by the grace and gravity of the aggregated layers. The office building lady complains about her hair. She said, "I don't even like walking down that way. Blow my hair, everywhere." She's older. She's been doing this a while.

I produce a ton of mucus. Sick as hell. I had to show up to work, though. I missed yesterday. I have been slacking a little lately, too. But, I just been bored with no work. I tried to keep a good head on me today. Be patient, pace myself, understand, survive. Gotta get those brakes switched. Slackin'...

I been in a rut, too. I can't seem to figure out what's next, or what to do. I keep stretching my life out, all over the place. I've gotta get my school finished. I want to be here so badly. I really dig it here. It fits me a little better. Or maybe it doesn't. Sometimes I want to just drop it all and go take a breath in Ouray. Fucking love that place. Definitely one of my homes. I have such a hard time with complacency. I just feel like I'm missing out. Time is nippin' on my heels. I can feel it. Who know's how much time we have left. Life goes by so fast, but hurts so much. I just feel worn out. I'm 26 years old, and I'm not sure if my body can handle 26 more. Shit, my hands already hurt. My shoulder is seriously injured. I just feel tired. Tired as hell. I just want to get in some water. See my family. Know that my friends are going to be okay. Maybe meet someone. Talk to my father.

But hell, I'm okay. I got some chicken for tonight. Maybe I'll have some broccoli and carrots with it. You know I got them grapes, too. Shit, pass out early. Maybe do some drawing. That's one thing I forgot to mention. Art is therapy. I've been doing a bunch of it lately. Here's some things I did last night. I like them. I think a style is starting to emerge. It's all sharpie on old pizza boxes.

Uncles

Self Portrait