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Tuesday, January 18, 2022


 My back is fucking killing me. I don't know what the deal is.

But one thing I'm really confused about is the phrase "I threw my back out". What the hell does that mean? I've been confused about this my entire life. You threw it out? How? What constitutes as thrown? Is it your whole back? Part of your back? Can you throw your back out if a different part is already thrown out?

So I don't really know if I've thrown it, or if I have an incurable illness that attacks my body and also makes everything confusing. Weird.

I am listening to a book about how to write a book. And I can't enjoy it so far because I keep thinking about how this lady is teaching people how to write a book with a book she has written. Like she didn't have to think of an idea or anything. It's interesting. I do like the book (Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott). I listen to books when I walk, so when I was walking she said something about describing the world around you. And I think I can do that. 

She said to just start writing. Go through my childhood and try to detail all of the memories. Which, whew, that's dark. 

So I sat down and all I could think of was my fucking back. 

I can't bend. I feel so stiff that I feel like my spine is fused and all of my muscles and skin are casts on my body. I think this is the MS hug, but maybe I threw my back out. Who knows.

I miss the old me. 

(please do not offer me fixes. I am only accepting sarcastic jokes at this time. Thank you for respecting my wishes)

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