I get that cramping feeling you get in your neck when you run in crisp cold air and are filling your lungs completely and quickly because you are so out of breath but you are pushing yourself to just get up the hill and down the driveway so you can get home and slam the door behind you, lock the top dead bolt, lock the door knob, drag your prized armoire to block the door, it needs to be firm. Then take all your other furniture to baracade the back door, garage door, and the door to the garden. You desperately begin taking apart chairs and taking cubbards and doors off their hinges. You need any extra piece of wood to hammer into the wall to block the windows. You are panting and heaving, feeling nauseous from exhaustion, but you know stopping is not an option. You cannot slow down, you need to make the most of every second, he who hesitates is lost, but he who rests is dead. You keep thinking “10% faster, 10% faster, please God not like this, 10% faster”. It’s at that moment, when you feel that aching and pulling of your collarbone that you realize you were too late. The pit in your stomach filling like a water balloon, your throat tightening and eyes beginning to water. You were no longer keeping him out, you were now keeping him in. You knew he was faster, stronger, and more cleverer than you, but you had to at least try. Any glimpse of survival is extinguished, your fate was all but sealed long ago. It was always going to be this way, it was always going to be Shia LaBeouf.
Also it feels like someone stabbed me in the back from time to time. Thank God for weed.
Twisted a vertebrae and broke a collarbone here.
I get that cramping feeling you get in your neck when you run in crisp cold air and are filling your lungs completely and quickly because you are so out of breath but you are pushing yourself to just get up the hill and down the driveway so you can get home and slam the door behind you, lock the top dead bolt, lock the door knob, drag your prized armoire to block the door, it needs to be firm. Then take all your other furniture to baracade the back door, garage door, and the door to the garden. You desperately begin taking apart chairs and taking cubbards and doors off their hinges. You need any extra piece of wood to hammer into the wall to block the windows. You are panting and heaving, feeling nauseous from exhaustion, but you know stopping is not an option. You cannot slow down, you need to make the most of every second, he who hesitates is lost, but he who rests is dead. You keep thinking “10% faster, 10% faster, please God not like this, 10% faster”. It’s at that moment, when you feel that aching and pulling of your collarbone that you realize you were too late. The pit in your stomach filling like a water balloon, your throat tightening and eyes beginning to water. You were no longer keeping him out, you were now keeping him in. You knew he was faster, stronger, and more cleverer than you, but you had to at least try. Any glimpse of survival is extinguished, your fate was all but sealed long ago. It was always going to be this way, it was always going to be Shia LaBeouf.
Also it feels like someone stabbed me in the back from time to time. Thank God for weed.