Wednesday, December 17, 2008

...and scorpion pose...hold it...don't forget to breath.

I went to a yoga class today. I’ve wanted to go to a yoga class for a long time. It’s one of those things that people think it’s gay for guys to do so I want to do it…because I’m into shattering molds. I also can knit, sew, and talk for hours on the phone about nothing. ;) So while I was in this yoga class the instructor said something that I was a little annoyed with. She said, during our breathing, in the beginning of the class: “breath all the way out and get that stalel air out of your lungs.” I imagine that she was trained to say this or has just heard some other yoga instructor say something of this nature and I just thought in my head, “that might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Stale air. As if there is this air somewhere in my lungs that if I don’t breath out all the way that it’s getting stagnate. Like some sort of mosquitoes that live in my lungs are laying eggs in the stagnate air there. No offense to my yoga instructor, who for all intents and purposes, could be reading this, but that statement made me somewhat frustrated the rest of my yoga class. 

Walking around today I was pretty nostalgic. This is the end to my favorite time of year and the beginning of my second favorite time. Something about cold weather that makes you think more about life and the things around you. These are some things I’m thinking about: Does sin in my life keep me from getting the things that God wants me to have, when girls are beautiful do they know that they are beautiful or do they think they need to keep trying to be better looking than the girl closet to them, if most of life is vain than what should I be spending time doing that really matters, and the last thing that I’ve been thinking today is why don’t I do the things I want to do. For instance; I want to be better at guitar but I don’t pick it up and practice. I also would love to be able to make beats on my computer and rap to them. I could do it but I just haven’t. I’d like to pleasure read more but I can’t find the time. But then I think that all those things are selfish and in vain. 

So much more to say, so little worth saying. love. war. 

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