Ben Bonkoske

Deep breaths. Deep consistent breaths that will haunt you as you try to fall asleep over the next three hours even though it’s nearly midnight. Deep breaths. I have been on and off smoking for the past eight years, ten if you include marijuana. Sure, I haven’t smoked the green stuff in a while, but my lungs probably look like the grey dandruff that gathers in laundry machines. In other words, as usual, I’m dying. I look forward to it, but a stupid reason like smoking isn’t going to cut it. I sometimes can’t believe what our bodies can endure. The Cheetos, the smokes, the drinks – we are durable machines. But what happens when you go the complete opposite direction? Complete veggies, no tv, only water, running daily. Frankly, that is what I remember being in a relationship was like. No wiggle room (well, maybe occasional ice cream). Perhaps I am inherently competitive even though I don’t want to be. I wish I could just happily eat cheese, but my face swells up like its been stung by a bee. What I am really trying to ask is, is life enjoyable without its unhealthy delicacies. I am enjoying becoming a somewhat better person everyday, and I don’t think I am alone on that score with most people my age. I could be a cynic and imagine that my very slow pace could be surpassed in a 50 foot dash. But Alas, I really don’t understand how people can just go about their lives without being obsessed with self improvement every day. I do NOT think I am better than anyone, in fact, it is probably because of my inferiority complex (stupidity) that I try to better myself. Surprisingly, it seems to be working. That is, if I gauge my success by how much music I listen to. There is still a world of unknown artists, and to be honest, I worry that some day I will run out of good books to read at the pace I am going, but alike all art, once you discover a new crack in the matrix, usually a plethora of relatively good things came washing over your tired bones…it also comes with a lot of bullshit. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have the time to do the things I want (and if I’m being honest) and NEED. I don’t require food and water, nor oxygen. I demand quiet time and good literature. My sister told me that my writing was garbage tonight. She might be right. She doesn’t even read anything besides my first drafts. I might not give myself the time of night tonight. It is just stream of consciousness for those of you have can’t clearly see that. Sometimes I really am able to spin a beautiful string of words together, but other times, just the hypnotizing click of the keys helps silence my overcrowded brain. That is what I am saying. I am saying that instead of scoring a dopamine rush, I am patiently drowning in celibacy that is either going to keep me from sleeping, or make me a productive youth that I haven’t yet achieved. Warning, my first paid article is going to be trash, but it is coming. Well, that is all I’ve ever aspired to be. Somebody who is a bad writer who is never read, but paid! I feel so outdated, even though today was the very first day, perhaps in my whole life, that I didn’t watch youtube, drink soda, shower twice, masterbate etc. etc.