Also weight lifting makes everything better. Especially your Jiu Jitsu.

Writing supplies...

The soldier stared out at the desolate horizon. He wasn't sure how long he had been at the outpost, but he knew he was the only one left. Supplies were all but gone, but he still managed to groom himself and care for his uniform. He still marked his time down, kept his schedule, and took pride in his daily tasks.

The cold bit hard today though. There was little light, the clouds covered the sun. He saw no animals, not even the snakes he had seen near the river when he was first stationed could be found. Did the cold drive them away? He wondered.

In a moment of weakness I almost bought this photo. Not quite, charismatic, sensitive eyed dog.

Last day of school. Get ready, new school class for the best presentation you've ever seen...!!

It was the little moments that would bring me salvation. I was sure of it. Time would slow down, I saw nothing but the Christmas lights and the shimmering street beneath my feet...I forgot and was only aware of what was happening, and what was coming. Little by little, I was finding myself.

"Luke's rage was brought on by too much testosterone." -Dr. Wong, SVU.

I really have to write a review for svu episode "lunacy". Sunday morning Jiu Jitsu first...

Why do you have this many drinks, Zuki?

Avoid dehydrated.

Ahhh.

Also, I need placebo.

There was only me now.

I was confused in this new world. The rules weren't the same...I wasn't sure what I should be doing. I thought of the man and the cup he had given me. If I drank from it I would forget, he promised. This was all part of my descent before I could come back up again.

When would that happen I asked. He told me that wasn't my concern and to go deeper into the dark and forget what came before.

Deeper! Deeper into the dark you go!

I could hear his voice as I entered the shadowy path before me. There was little light to see exactly where I was going. As I walked down further and further I could not see back, and it almost felt like I was in a cavern...but that was impossible.

Embrace it! Its what you paid for!

Then something curious happened. In the midst of all the screaming, stench, blood, and puss I closed my eyes and saw them. Children's candies and crayons. The colors of the wax pencils were vibrant, I could feel the texture of the paper and the smell of wax. I saw the semi transparent wrapping of the butterscotch candy, the kind that would be in a glass bowl. Vivid enough to pull me away from the insanity of the reality I was experiencing.

I was standing behind her. The screen door opened and she pushed open the the front. We were inside. I looked to the left. An oil painting of two young boys, one holding a sail boat was there. The faces were slightly off, their eyes were hollow.

"Creepy picture".

I nodded in agreement and followed her inside, into the dark.

----------------------------------------------------

I have to stop buying suits.

I couldn't breathe. It wasn't that I was being choked, or that I had a heavy weight on my chest. It was the air. It was heavy and stale. Similar to a port authority bus station. It seemed like the place didn't have a single window, there was no circulation.

I need to be able to breathe deep, full breaths in order to function. I had gotten used to breathing into the pit of my stomach through my nose, feeling the cool air circulate through my lungs...These deep breaths sustained me.

Surrounded by support. Impossible to fail.

Steven seagul drinking games.

Everytime seagal slaps someone you take a drink. Note, a slap can be on the face or back of the head. Clothslines and palm strikes do not count. Slapping children and animals counts.

Every time someone compliments seagal you take a drink. Direct compliments and indirect compliments count. Seagal telling stories of his own exploits count as well.