pull out that still-beating heart.


it's probably just in my head, but i've been feeling my chest tighten up lately. it's like i can feel the years of cheese and mayo building up in my arteries over the years. i feel it tighten, or whatever the feeling is, and then i think about an ultimate cheeseburger from jack in the box. how i used to eat one once a week, tuesday nights, while watching buffy the vampire slayer. i'd order a large coke and onion rings, and if i was really daring, i'd get a medium oreo shake to chase it down.

so i convinced myself that to ward off heart disease, i should go to the gym. the last time i went to the gym was in the philippines. the century plaza hotel had a gym, so i'd go there as often as i could, and i'd run on the treadmill for twenty minutes or so. sometimes, i'd use the other machine where i'd push forward and it was like lifting weights. i wouldn't do this very much because my arms are weak. i have no upper body strength.

so yesterday, i went to the connolly center. i was hesitant to go, as the thought of being surrounded by younger, fitter undergrads didn't appeal to me. it was a process. i left my shit at work, put my pants over my gym shorts (for some reason this reminded me again of high school), and i walked over there. on the way over, kayla told me about her obsession with lost.

i changed in the bathroom, and there were two other guys in there also changing. it wasn't really a locker room, so that was kind of weird. i went to the weight room, and it was packed. i learned later that mondays are always busy, and by friday, there's hardly anyone there. there was one treadmill open, and i hopped on. i saw a guy behind me look disappointed that i took the last one. i listened to wale's "mirror," and i jogged at 6 mph. there were five or six bouncing ponytails to my left, all of them running much faster than i ran.

i got warm and looked at my feet. behind me, some girls were spinning. there were also many dudes lifting weights, many women using the multiple stairmasters. on the screens, there was college ball and news. i put one foot in front of the other and thought about my heart beating. it's steady all day and then it goes up. will i have heart disease? am i gonna die? is my heart just one day gonna decide, eh, that's enough of this.

i wonder if it could think, what it would be thinking now. there's the word heartbreak, but i don't think it's a real thing. it's just an unfounded metaphor. how does your heart actually break? someone would have to rip it out mayan-style, and take a hammer to it. i heard about that procedure in art history with mr. bischoff. the mayans would actually have to cut open the stomach and reach up through the rib cage to pull out the sacrifice's still-beating heart. it made sense, and then i thought about how kano's fatality in mortal kombat, and that scene from indiana jones were bullshit. the mayans - now there's a people who really knew how to break your fucking heart.

bunch of cold-hearted bitches those mayans were.

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