Everyone tells you that you are getting old, you rebel against the ID card and continue to drink like the hull of the Titanic. The next day you are undecided whether to call the ambulance or the funeral home. This is how, when you enter porn sites, you start to pay less attention to the cinematic masterpiece you wanted to see and more attention to the banners that promise you to get back in shape in 20 days (and increase your pea by as many centimeters).
Your attempt to lead a reckless life has almost killed you, which is why a principle of self-preservation is triggered in your brain that pushes you to the healthy turn, that is everything that until the day before yesterday seemed to you the domain of gyms and sissies. Ok, enough with the synonyms and let’s see specifically what is meant by “healthy turn”.
First of all comes the belief. No person who can handle a hangover measurable in hectoliters thinks it makes sense to stop drinking. On the contrary, as soon as your body starts whimpering at seeing more than ten spirits all at once, you are convinced that healthy living is the best available on the market.
So stop smoking, because when you go running you notice that you have less rhythm than the Viaggiare Informati bulletin. Better to save the lungs, especially since on cigarette packets they have put all those images of tumors, ailments and natural disasters that even if they were not true still bring bad luck. And then it’s so nice not to have to leave the club every two minutes to ruin your health, but to be in the company of your friends, yes, the very ones that until two weeks before you would have buried under a truckload of manure in exchange for a butt when you have finished the package.
Then comes the proactive part of your psycho-health disorder, that is, you decide to play sports. Normally these are bad physical activities, because deep down you know how you have reduced yourself. So you will never go to challenge someone in basketball or in the hundred meters, but I would become the best – and only – badminton player in your neighborhood and interprovincial champion of some unknown martial art practiced only by a Chinese farmer from Huangdong province and his tribe. inbred.
At this point your life is over. You don’t drink, you don’t eat, you don’t party. But you are missing one last point to ruin yourself completely: the fixation.
Only the best get there, because it’s easy to fuck your brain halfway, but it takes art to ruin it completely. So you get stuck on a random idiotic activity. It could be vegan cooking, the art of lifting 50kg weights with the tip of the nose, carrot and radish centrifuges or kundalini yoga while listening to Iron Maiden. It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you have a niche passion, so much niche as to suggest that whoever ends up there is a potential misfit or serial killer.
And then you go on like this, up to fifty, when you realize that you are much better than your peers, you evaluate why, you ask yourself two questions, you give yourself half an answer and you throw yourself back on alcohol, this time seriously.
