Friday, August 13


It's day three -- three up, three down, but I expected to be down five at least. That's the unpredictability of the human body for you. (Oh, who am I kidding? Totally predictable. Dehydrated and that bit. The body is a machine and acts accordingly; it does what it is programmed to do when it is programmed to do it.)

Chugging water and tomorrow it'll be another two gone.

Already that flat stomach where it almost feels hard to breathe because there's not enough room to inhale. Admittedly that is just my delusions and has nothing to do with my ability to breathe or the imagined flatness of my stomach, but if wishes were horses...

Am I still disoriented?

We're going out tonight so he can kick my ass in pool. I can ask him to help me which gives him an excuse to touch my ass, him watching me slide long fingers up and down the stick and licking my lips in psuedo-concentration. His body is a machine, too.

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