Almost Pass Out

Ah, summer. The best time to get back in shape and get out and be active, right?
Yeah well, not for out shape fatsos like me.
Just kidding. I'm not that fat or that out of shape and I'm not that insecure. If anything I'm just heavy, that's all.
Anyway, two days ago my sister woke me up in the morning and yelled at me to get jogging. Well I didn't have a shirt. Or shorts. Or shoes. So I had to borrow her clothes. Once I was dressed and whatnot, we headed out (without food).
Unfortunately for me my sister gave me a shirt to wear that was REALLY tight around the chest area. It was seriously hard to breathe in that thing, even if I was standing still. I'm not sure whether or not I should be proud that I'm bigger than my older sister of 8 years in that way or disappointed that I'll never be able to fit in any of her hand me down shirts, but I think it's a pretty big accomplishment to pass your older sister. At that moment, it wasn't that big of a positive. Plus, she also just so happened to choose a pretty hot day to go running, so heat stroke was a definite possibility. But maybe I'm being dramatic.
Anyway, after jogging uphill for only a minute, I was already breathing heavy. It was damn hard to breathe. I might be out of shape, but dude, uphill is difficult for anyone with a tight shirt, not just shapeless blobs like me. Then when we were walking downhill, I was having trouble seeing and walking straight. I had to stop for awhile.
When I got up my sister ran ahead of me and I walked (somewhat) but I had to stop every couple feet. My back was killing me and my eyes were irritated by the amount of light they were taking in (yeah, I'm a retired vampire). I didn't have a phone either so I couldn't call my sister back. I seriously thought I was going to die on the side of the pathway there, but I think I was just over-dramatizing again. Luckily she came back and called my other sister to pick me up near the entrance of the subdivision. She had a glass of water for me to drink and a lecture about getting in shape for me to listen to while we were driving home (good thing I didn't live far).
So, am I really (let's just say) physically challenged? Well, I might be really bad at long distance but back in gym I used to be able to keep up with the faster runners while doing laps. I'd come in the top 25 or something in both classes. I used to be LAST at these things (not counting the fat guy). But I got better and keeping up - especially in short distance (I just don't have enough endurance for long distance).
If I really am as good as I claim, then why the hell was it hard for me to even jog probably less than half a mile? Well I pinpoint three problems.
1. Well, you already know about that tight shirt I was complaining about. I know shirts like that are supposed to support your boobs so they won't go bouncing around, but couldn't they have made custom shirts that fit your cup size? Or maybe it's just my sister's fault for giving me a shirt too small for me and my problem for not being as small as her. I could have just used one of my tops, but she already so nicely gave me one. And you know, starting off uphill will shorten your breath as well, tight shirt or no tight shirt. The top just increased that level of lung effort.
2. Heat. Stroke. When you don't have food or water before you go running in insanely hot weather, you'd definitely overheat. I don't think I need more of an explanation for this.
3. I had. My. PERIOD. Y'know, the little red gift every girl that has gone through puberty gets in their underwear every month? The thing that we dread because it's like our vajayjays are shitting up blood every month with some slight side effects? Yeah, well I didn't know about it at the time and I was cramping up big time. That would explain why my back hurt so much at the time. For you guys out there that might be reading this for no apparent reason and is now looking at the screen uncomfortably, running while having your period is like having your stomach spontaneously combust into a series of little explosions. It is NOT pleasant.

Well there you have it kids. My whole painful story of nearly passing out. Don't know why I wanted to share that with you, but maybe I just wanted to argue my reasons to my sisters without actually arguing with them (if I did, they'd probably just say, "Shut up and just start working out more").
Y'know, I was going to do a review on Toy Story 3, but I didn't want to ruin anything for you kiddos that are still looking forward to seeing it. Plus reviews aren't really my forte - just rants XD. I do have an icon I made for it. ^_^

The Claw!!!

I wish I had better a better font for it, though, but I was making this on my sister's user and all the new fonts are saved on mine. =/ Oh well.

TWGS♥

PS. The picture at the top is a little comic I drew last night on post it notes. If you SQUINT really hard, I'm sure you can make out the words I've written.

Poetry (Again)

Another angsty metaphoric narrative poem, this time inspired by....
Actually I don't remember what I saw that inspired it.
All I know is that I was watching the Pixar shorts at the time.
OH WAIT. Inspired by WALL-E, the scene where Wall-E and Eve were dancing together in space and the captain was reading the definition of dance.
See if you can figure out the metaphor, though it doesn't take a genius to figure it out.


The Show (Dance)

Round and round.
Step after step.
We dance and we dance.
We twirl.
We jump.
We plie.
We dance as
we go.
Making up new moves.
Repeating some old ones.
But we dance
Until our performance comes to an end.

As the world as our stage
We can create more.
Our dances tell our stories.
We can dance alone,
With partners,
Or with a group.
But we are never alone.
Our dances intertwine with others
To create one big show.

My dance is unrehearsed;
I dance as I go.
But lately,
I've been out of step.
My right foot disappeared
And is replaced with a left one.

As I trip out of tune
Out of step
Out of place
I don't notice the other one
Cutting into new dancers
And stopping their performance
Before it barely started.
Four dancers fall
One is left
Limping
And alone.

But did they matter?
They weren't even real performers.
But they were a part of my performance.
I'm left four dancers short
When two different ones were already dancing away from me.

Another dancer cuts in
Trying to put the interferer back in place
When the crew comes in
They take the dancer away
But the interferer is left
Dancing more merrily
Now that one of the big leads is separated from us
He thinks that the crew will save him
But who was to save the four dancers
From the interferer?
I was supposed to
But I tripped too much to see them.

Our performance is stopped momentarily
Waiting for technical difficulties to be fixed
Waiting for recasting calls
But in our dance
No one can be replaced
There are no understudies
Only the main performers
And one was dragged away
When he was already trying to get back in step
One is placed under care
When he didn't need it
He was just creating more drama
That wasn't part of the performance
The rest of us are left standing on the stage
Waiting for our curtains to rise again.

But that's dance.


Comments and constructive criticism much appreciated ^_^

TWGS ♥

EDIT :: At the top, you see that I've added a graphic I made of ballerina dancers. I've decided to put some interest in my plain black blog and add a new graphic that incorporates with the main idea of the post. Unfortunately this one was cropped a little too small ^^; heh, oh well.

Poetry

A poem I wrote a few nights ago. See if you can figure it out.

The Ball

I am still the little kid
Playing ball in the yard.
And when it falls to the street
I chase after it.
I shouldn't have
And I knew that.

The closer I got
The closer a truck came
The closer it got to hitting me.
The more I wanted my ball
The harder I was hit.
I fell at my own expense
When the ball betrayed me
And fell to the street.
The difference is
Someone picked it up
And took it away from me.
Maybe it was never mine to have

Did I ever stop playing with it?
Almost three years ago
I found it
And made my mark on it.
It fell to the street many times.
But I've always left unscathed.
Others didn't fare as easily.

It found its way back to me.
This time
I realized how much I missed it.
It was mine
And I never wanted it to leave.
When it fell to the streets this time
I was left hospitalized.
My heart was found on the road
Shattered.


Surprisingly, this poem was inspired when on the last day of school, I saw Lizzie playing with a volleyball and when she dropped it she almost got hit by a basketball. I get ideas by the craziest of things.


And another poem I wrote months ago, but is my favorite of all the ones I wrote during my poetry craze.

Time Limits

Time
60 seconds
60 minutes
24 hours
7 days
1 year

Never ending
No beginning
No end
Just there.
So why does it feel like
It's running out?

Days go by
Months
Years
Time slipping away.
Unnoticed
Until needed.

Time constricting us
Measuring how long
How long can we relax?
How long can we rest?
How long can I do the things I love?
How long
do we
Have?

The seconds tick away
Counting off the time
Minute hands our guards
Hour hands the cell
Trapped in time.
That's how we are.
Trapped
Limited

I don't want time
Limiting my life.


Comments are greatly appreciated (seeing as how I don't get them anymore...)

TWGS ♥