As some of you know, I broke my back one and a half months ago.  But I have just this weekend  abandoned the euphoric meds supplied to me and I have run (jogged) this afternoon a fair distance for the first time since my injury.  I can now proclaim: it doesn't suck to be me anymore.  I feel now like I can openly lay claim to the world once again instead of taking sheltering precautions against reinjury and shielding myself from the risky energy mix of this world that's always swirling everywhere about.  I'm feeling so good that I wish I was down on the shore of the Gulf Coast in the direct path of Gustav on a Harley hog with two extra cans of gas strapped to packs.  I'd sit there in lawless and guardian angel-less defiance and stare the storm in the face until the rage of the storm matched my sense of utter abandoned independence and then I'd race that bike north/northwest without sleep until the the sun shined otherworldly high overhead and songbirds, untroubled by even a shadow of a cloud, sang their horny mating songs once again.

I repeat: It no longer sucks to be me.