You have no idea how much I hate to share this…I am so fucking fat and out of shape…AGAIN!
Like a twelve-stepper wrestling with step one, can I admit at least to myself that I have a serious problem?
Yes, I think so. This is my type-written admission to me, and to what I imagine, disgusted (or at least disgruntled) readers of this blog. Let me buy the bar a round of apologies, and toast you all with “To a life larger than it is small!” And “New beginnings!”
If there is anyone still out there who cares, I will be blogging once again about my relationship with food (still not sure if I’m the abused or the abuser), and a bunch of other stuff you may find interesting. Much has happened since my last posts and many of my viewpoints have changed, some drastically. I also now have a mustache.
Years ago, maybe when I was twelve or thirteen, a science teacher lectured about detritus. I learned that decomposition is the rule rather than the exception in life. My English lit teacher tried to tell us the same thing somewhere in her “Man VS. Nature” lectures. And I suppose a lot of the crap I was taught at church was just a response to the fears associated with the overriding erosive nature of life.
I think it’s just this year though that I finally get it. Detritus. And for some reason my increased awareness of all things decomposing is motivating me to create.
I want to create. Even if what I create can’t be lasting.