Yes-I bring the 80’s power/Kelly Kapowski hair BACK. What’s up now world!!!! GPOYW
First off, listen to Matty V’s newest mix. It’s a lot of electro pop house mashing. He’s my boy. I’ll post the link in the next box (to the left, to the left…everything you own in a box to the left)
I would like to touch on an interesting subject I was thinking about in my car this morning, driving to work. It’s the idea of running yourself into the ground, physically. You may or may not ask where this question comes from, but as this is NICOLE STERNER’S blog and not yours, I’m going to tell you anyway. I was listening to Little Red Corvette.
I listen to Prince and Sam Sparro every day of my life. As a matter of fact, I would go so far as to say I physically feel withdrawals when I do NOT listen to either of these assholes every day. I need them. I need the FUNK. Regardless, so I’m listening to Little Red Corvette at my favorite part, where the female vocals come in at the end and Prince sings “You’ve got to slow down…cause if you don’t you’re going to run your body right into the ground”. Even typing those words makes me shiver through my spine…the idea of someone running their very body into the ground with what I interpret to be some type of sexual addiction is rather alluring, don’t you think? It makes me ponder the lifestyle of someone with nothing to lose; someone who just fucks and snorts coke and carelessly uses every ounce of their body in what “we” as society would call destructive behavior.
I began to think of why I personally found this idea so intriguing and I started formulating it has to do with the complete lack of physical exertion most of us do on a daily basis. I smoke cigarettes, I drink, I engage in illegal drug usage slightly more than occasionally, and I sit in an office all day. When I’m not sitting in my office alternating between such exciting activities such as actually working, yapping to obnoxious entertainment people on the phone, IMing, blogging, or reading shit on the interweb, I’m at my house doing homework, whilst…yes, you guessed it…SITTING ON MY FUCKING ASS. How I have the body I do is owed 110% to the gorgeous people I somehow karmically “won” as my parents. Sure, I dance around a lot, and I walk fast, and when I’m not working or doing homework I like to take the occasional run or hike, but for the most part, aren’t we all just SITTING ON OUR ASSES?
People like us are trapped in our own heads for the most part. If my legs ran as fast as my feeble brain, I’d be made of steel. This leads to the inevitable mental fatigue, but there is no glory in that. When your brain needs rest, it just forces you to sleep. There is no cramping of muscles, no shortness of breath, no “I’m breaking down, I’m dying” feeling like you have after you run a marathon, fuck someone for hours, or try cycling up a fucking hill on a humid day. There is no glory or sense of accomplishment for mental fatigue. Only physical.
So in essence, it really is no surprise I find the concept of running your body into the ground so alluring. It leads to secondary thoughts of living my life far, far away from this town (Los Angeles) and these people (hipster famewhores) and everything else that comes with an adult life: work, school, love, friendships, social networking, trying to climb up imaginary mountains that you aren’t even sure exist just to be able to look yourself and your parents in the eye and say, “I tried”. When you run your muscles into spasms of pain and lactic acid consumption, it’s because you’re running up a REAL mountain, one made of dirt or concrete.
I’m much more at peace after I take a walk or run, things make more sense to me after I leave this fucking box known as a “computer” alone and do something in the real world unrelated to looking pretty or thinking about how many people I’m going to get texts from later. I want this to be romantic, I don’t want to say the chemicals released after physical exertion calm your brain down to a happy stupor. I want my body to scream and cry and wake me up in the middle of the night with aches and pains from real injuries, not just the injuries of the heart of the injustices of the mind.
I need a gym membership.
