fat

there was, and this was, suppose to be different but i feel consumed by something more assured then a particular consternation.

mostly or so far lately, when i think about what i've been thinking about, a flat lines goes across the screen. at church a friend asked me how i was and nothing flitted across my mind, possibly my bloodsugar level was low, and then when i thought back to maybe a couple hours before there was something possibly heart breaking hovering there, absurd in its correlation to me and to my conclusion about it but nevertheless, but then the day moved on and it was gone- that happens occassionally to me like waking from autopilot and suddenly i feel tired, sad, possibly anxious and i pause mid sip, take a deep breath and engage a mental diagnostic- oh yah, that's right, there it is- a minut? minute. whatever. assemblage of fine points- mine and some from other people that materialize into apprehension, an event, a phrase, a metaphoric turn to the meaning of the thing.

autopilot is good for a lot of things, like the 6min anger delay button. fuming after i'm out of the situation or possibly reticent. it's odd how it takes several occurances to register on the scale, how it coalesces into a thought and then-

it happens occassionally when weight becomes the topic of anyones conversation. i note the features of the person, pros/cons... decide whether they have a right to be complaining, a right to think they look ugly or insecure in a bikini- think within a mili-space that i would "kill" to have such a body, and think them very foolish for such an utter lack of perspective. which i know we're all entitled too. they say healthy but what they mean is less repellant. but as we are all self-consumed, slips are inevitable in regards to how we really feel about ourselves. most always in my life i have never wanted to be anyone but myself- possibly, most defintely a better version, taller, thinner, smaller feet... but when it comes to it, i fought very hard to be happy with me. and i see people betray themselves that when they look at other women they wish they were them, and i think but you're beautiful- why don't they see that they're beautiful... and i think tragic. and it passes to annoyance when in comparison they have very little to do- i'm glad i can be here for perspective, a reality check- i have for instance $77,000 in debt and maybe 80+ to lose... and i scoff at their 20lbs or their $2,000 debt, whatever, i don't want to begrudge them with an eyeroll but i do. it is something possibly very big or insurmountable to them... i do not have a boulder on my back despite it... as a book reminded me, events in themselves aren't significant but what people think of them are, makes me think all those attitude adjustment tapes could work... really, after all. if i wanted them too.

i like my view from here, quietly, raucously going about my business. i am in the water, knowing i should've shaved, lap after lap watching the line and the flags pass on the ceiling, watching the cute old korean couple, the professional girl swimmers, the woman who wears make up into the water, the beautiful and disruptive boys, (much hotter than those body builder types) and my friends and this life i'm in, the skin i'm in has a fit that is wholly mine. and every minute in such naked spaces i have to chase away the chill that says, but you're, and they might, staring, awkward, retreat, dripping wet, inconvinience, betrayal to peace, transforming, blissful flatline of doing what i do because it makes me... happy? the healthy benefits aside. so that when i glance up from a thoughtless space it will not have been about vague apprehension but a rememberance of to whom i belong and to whom i serve- a far more reassuring space then the failure of being someone i am not.