Writing exercises

Push up

I stood on the platform, horizontally, waiting, my hands went all awry, my heart began to hurt, and now I may as well lie down on the platform, so that’s what I did.


And the train left without me (or not yet) but I ran after it and before you know it, I became the train.


Woozy, I sat down (or not yet) but somebody played that trick of pulling the chair out at the last moment and now I need to pretend I know what I am doing with life.


I felt stupid about all of this and so I thought I would get some writing done the same way people stand in front of the mirror and look at their stomachs for validation.


I have this real intense look on my face, although I haven’t written a word.


Knee by knee, buddy. Take it knee by knee.

Bench press

I now have a point to prove because someone is looking at me—tell me I am doing something with my life.


If I could make a general observation unrelated to the rest of this this: You can’t wear sunglasses and also not look like a complete douchelord; not possible. See also: protein shake.

Pull up

Everything I have done so far has the structural integrity of an aluminium foil. The train’s here and I am relieved not so much for the train but because I don’t have to write anymore.

Posted in Art

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