Garbage In, Garbage Out

Have you ever been in the middle of working out and started weeping? One girlfriend said in the middle of a massage as one knot was released, all this emotion and memory came pouring out. The masseuse told her that it happens sometimes.

Maybe the body has memory. It holds things in a way the brain doesn’t.

Maybe that knot held onto the day her stepdad died and when she put the pipe away pissed at him for leaving her.

Maybe a particular fat cell when called to give up its essence is also giving up that evening of drunken goat and vouvray? I’d like to think so — to think that there is some benefit in being this weepy mess flailing through reps pushing away long gone moments.

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