Ben Bonkoske

Sugar addiction (along with all the other self-imposed problems I have) is very real. Oh no! A bowl of ice cream at the end of the week. It will surely be my demise. I usually feel my brain pulse from a long day of mental gymnastics. I read and walk it off. I listen to people talk in my earbuds until I’ve had enough. So then I just listen to the birds. South for the winter. I frighten deer on my misadventures. I miss North Carolina, but I prefer my new track. 2.5 miles twice a day and I’m still gaining weight. Sleep is all I can think about, and it is because I’ve burned enough calories by thinking alone. I am always a little bit better than the day before, even though I haven’t changed since tomorrow. I’m on borrowed time, and it is burning a hole in my pocket. Nothing changes someone more than unearned money. I have a luxury chef. I am trying my best, but it is less than you would expect. It is not a natural phenomenon for someone as wild as me to live in captivity. Aldous Huxley wrote how the slaves of the future will freely be chained. I am looking for the struggle, but the only thing that makes my life a challenge is restraining from another bowl of rocky road. I can’t believe what this breeds. I am lucky that I have a long road ahead of looking back fondly on this wasted year. It will surely be something that will stir the paint into an ugly brown. I have an upsidedown frown. I am excited for life to move on. My thoughts are quiet for how loud I laugh at my great mistakes. Seriously, there are things that I would never replace for the rat race.