Not sure why, but I’ve been having these strange bouts of self-loathing on Fridays. At first I thought it was some temporary thing for a lack of plans, but the repeated instances hint at some kind of pattern. 

One thing is always the same — it doesn’t jolt; rather, it creeps, like some subtle poison, cell by cell, molecule by molecule. As it takes hold, I begin to feel hapless, unable to influence others—a powerlessness that soon turns into a growing voice cursing myself for my stupidity.

This feeling clouds over me until I get myself to the gym, for my weekly class. I hope the endorphins will purge the poison from me; instead, my body fails — I guess, due to some combination of an indulgent diet and lack of will — and I feel weak, defeated, while it grows stronger than ever.

These sessions are currently my best opportunities to introduce myself to new people; yet, I never say a word, nor look anyone in the eye. I remain focused on my reflection in the room’s mirrors, often growing frustrated by how much worse my hair and spectacles look as a session goes on, and even more by my body’s imbalance, my low height, my inferiority and decrepitude. I try to fuel myself with this anger, only to be trumped by the limits of a short frame — a low range of motion that prevents me from ever knowing whether I’m doing a movement right or wrong. Each time I walk away exhausted but unsatisfied, feeling with greater certainty that qualities like ‘virile’, ‘imposing’, ‘capable’ remain out of my reach. 

I will never make anyone feel safe. 

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I saw “Thor” alone. Good film. Loki’s the kind of character I identify so easily with — the envious one, looking in from outside, his sense of self-worth locked on some factor entirely out of his control.

I came home to a building with the power out in the hallways. Others went out with their friends to avoid the spookiness. With no one to go to, I found my way back to my room, prepared to drink to an early sleep if needed, if the lack of electricity deprives me of my other preoccupations. Fortunately the light still worked.

And, cheer up, Lakers fans — if I’m reading this Yahoo! Sports recap correctly, your team is only statistically fucked.