So It Begins...

I didn't sweat my cancer diagnosis too hard. Two balls seemed like a redundancy from the start.  Besides, by the time I dragged my uninsured ass to the hospital, the sick one was pretty much solid tumor, swinging low; a kiwi-sized bell-clapper of creeping death, bullying and berating what remains of my manhood.  Over the years, the dynamic duo formerly known as my testicles had been responsible for more bad situations than good.  I was glad they were able to accelerate me through puberty.  I can't imagine what it would've been like if that process had dragged itself on any further.  Despite the thicket of asshole hair I've been tending since the sixth grade, it's only been in the past couple of years that I've been able to grow a respectable beard.  Since escaping the loathsome years of adolescence, I've neither been aesthetically or practically attached to having nuts, in the plural.  I was never one of those guys blessed with the magic-eye like symmetry of a balanced scrotum.  Mine was always more like the scales of justice, perpetually tilted and inspiring of distrust.  Too many mornings have I found myself sneaking out of my own bed, trying to nimbly skirt the creaking floorboards so as not to awake the slumbering sloppapotamus with whom I'd fornicated during the prior night's debauchery.  One time too many have I put off a creative endeavor in favor spraying my issue all over my sheets and collapsing in a pile.

Truth be told, my libido took a backseat to my chemical pursuits years ago.  Loads needed stroking and I'd willingly do the legwork, but sex outside of a relationship was sporadic and usually motivated some ill-conceived attempt to bolster my crumbling ego.  Given the choice between a trio of high school prom queens brandishing baby oil, and quarter pound of bud with high-speed internet, nine times out of ten I'd go with the latter.  So it was, on the end of Mayan calender, December 22nd, 2013, in my twenty-seventh year, I was gassed, shorn and cut.  Thinking nothing of it, allowing no room for no real change.

So what the hell's so different now?  What residual ripple has tilted me so far from my prior lifestyle and belief system?  I'm not sure, and I don't know that I will articulate it clearly anytime soon, but something has changed, and I intend to work through it here, along the yawning indifference of the world wide web.