I ate today; it was...different. You see, I haven’t really found the idea of eating interesting lately. I have been drinking water sometimes, since I have been doing strenuous exercise about 3 hours a day for a week. I think I am getting thinner.
Life is very busy now; working, training, sleeping, repeat. I also I know I have Andehonia, but it just doesn’t seem to matter (a little joke).
If you don’t know, Andehonia is a condition of greyness, where a person becomes unable, or incapable of deriving pleasure from life, through any means. It also usually comes with sleep irregularities. It is one of the reasons I have great difficulty with people who romanticize vampires (who are traditionally suppose to not “feel” human emotions anymore). When you are deep in the cocoon of Andehonia, the most something becomes is interesting, even agonizing pain (which you still feel, it just doesn’t always seem to interest you that much, or can simply lower your social inhibitions.). The thing which has always produced the greatest joy: not worth the effort. Your fantasy food: there no longer is such a thing, as everything tastes...like nothing at all. Sylvia Plath experienced a long bout of Andehonia before she put her head in the oven, Van Gogh wrote to his brother about it a week before shooting himself in the heart. So you can see why the idea of eternal life with eternal Andehonia would likely be a very short life indeed. It is, in a way, like waking up missing a sense, like sight or smell, as you try, one after another, the things which gave the greatest satisfaction or joy. As each feels instead like an empty exercise, you turn inventive and extravagant, almost desperate; perhaps buying something will make me feel something, or a bubble bath, anything indulgence that you can think of. And you feel…nothing.
I have blogs I have been working on, I wish to finish; so stay tuned; things will return to....well, not normal...but with fewer tasks over a greater time.
Oh yes, Happy Thanksgiving to all the Americans.
48 minutes ago