Monday, April 20, 2009
If I were any other species, I would be dead by now. I mean, there's no chemotherapy for slugs. If a slug got cancer, it'd be one dead slug. Hell, even as a human being, I'm alive only because I happen to be in a part of the world, and in the right conditions, that I can receive treatment. Usually, when it comes to health and illness, you either get better, or you don't. I "should not" have gotten better. I would not, had it not been for outside intervention. I guess the same applies for inoculation from childhood illnesses and the like, but I can't help but feel as though in a way I've cheated death.. Like I was supposed to be part of the "early death rate" -- some statistic of sorts... I feel like I'm in a shitty film, expecting death to hunt me down now.
Or maybe I'm just crazy. Either's possible.
I'm also kind of frustrated with the all too slow progress I'm seeing from going to the gym. Then again, my diet is pretty lousy. Oh well. I'll be all healthy when I can safely say I've made cancer my bitch.
Good night, sleep tight. Hiss hiss, I'm in your muffler.