Yoga Sux

Dear Purusha

Fuck this yoga bullshit. I would have over 2 more hours in my day and more money in my wallet each month if I could just quit it. I wouldn’t have to worry about leaving my better half for months while I go to India. I would get to stay up late. I would get to sleep. I would get to go out and socialize like a normal human being. I could drink wine on weeknights. I could resemble a normal person on Friday nights instead of the sleep deprived exhausted zombie that I am. I could party on Saturday nights. I could forget about brahmacharya. Sex in the mornings!!! No fear of lost prana debilitating my summit out of karandavasana. I could just be human and that could be okay. No more trying to rise above it all. I could forget about trying to abide in you. My true nature.

It’s been 6 years, 6 months, and 6 days and still I am not enlightened. I am crabbier than ever. I am judgmental of the clydesdales and freight trains on the mats around mine. But still I plod along. My teacher gives me new poses and I am happy. My teacher doesn’t give me new poses for months, sometimes years on end and I am tormented. It’s all so fucking ridiculous.

I am ready for the curtains to close on the drama in my head. Or at least let’s turn on the comedy channel. Cause this shit ain’t working.