snakes in the brain

Brian calls them snakes. Snakes in the brain. And I guess that's a good way of putting it. The snakes have been writhing a bit more violently than normal lately and he thought I might need to talk about it. The thing is, I'm done talking. I have decided that life is not a long winded poem, a good conversation, or a concerned email from a friend. And I don't need to "talk it out". I need to do everything but talk it out. I need to sweat it out bleed it out piss it out puke it out shit it out and be done with it. Because life is not a conversation about life. It's the verb. The air I breathe the pain and all the joy I feel and the things I do as opposed to the things I say. So I'm done being lame. I'm going snowboarding tomorrow. I suppose that's a start.