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The Walking Dead.

I’ve always thought the best way to get in shape is to get your heartbroken. Either you’re too sad to eat and so desperate to keep yourself busy that the gym suddenly becomes an option, or you just want to look good in the event you run into your ex’s new whorebag girlfriend, or even better/worse your ex. That’s why I started running and doing yoga, but I kept running and doing yoga because I genuinely loved it

Thus, you should always do things for yourself. Not for the approval of others. Not to make someone  jealous. Not to teach someone a lesson. Eat good because it makes you feel good. Learn how to play the guitar because you enjoy it. Go hiking because it makes you happy. Do shit for yourself.

Always. Unless you’re in a rut like me and can’t find motivation even if it slaps you in the face. 

To say I haven’t been happy is an understatement. I may go about my business like usual, but you can hear it in my sigh and see it in the emptiness of my stare. The problem is I know what I need to do in order to get my shit together, and even worse I know what will happen if I don’t. Yet, I refuse to take even the slightest step in the right direction. I’m in this self-inflicted limbo where I’m depressed and dissatisfied enough to complain about it and hate my life, yet not enough to change my life. It’s as if I’m fine being unhappy.

My biggest fear next to death itself, is living a mediocre life and I am well underway to achieving it. Still, that thought isn’t enough to push me to do better. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! While thinking about my dilemma one day, I started to think of Gail. She was one of the few people I never felt a burden to. I often wonder how different my life would be with her still in it. The relationships I would still have, and the ones I would’ve never started. I told a girlfriend of mine about this and she suggested that if I absolutely cannot do it for myself, then to do it for someone else. 

Live for Gail. You have to find motivation. You can’t give up. Life is too precious and short to not try. People like Gail and my pops don’t have that chance anymore.”


I had never thought about it that way, and it wasn’t until I did that I actually felt something click. I’m not saying I’m cured and that I’m going to finally start utilizing my gym membership or writing my book tomorrow, but apparently I found something more effective than doing something for myself. So instead of living as if I may be die tomorrow, I’ll live for those who have already gone instead. 

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