Work in Progress

1st Entry
When I lie in the morning and don’t want to get up, get active, get dressed is it just laziness? Pure or Not? Or is it something more? Sometimes I just pull at the extra skin that is the side effect of this never-ending road away from OBESITY. That word haunts me every day. It is the Spector that spills its guts and gore all over my path. I wade through gingerly because of the fear I might wake it and be swallowed whole. The fear and terror of 3 digits all put next each other, in one could say, random way freezes the bones and makes it hard to see through. That you could silence the years and be with yourself doesn’t stop it because the eyes are deceitful and will find any flaw and the rational brain attempts to think thoroughly and shed light on the true with words. But words cannot counter-act what the eyes have witnessed and though the words remain the voice has less conviction. Eyes windows to the soul nay they are fathomless depths of my gluttony. Every morsel that can fit perceives the shame, powerlessness and the desperation.
2nd Entry
A dot, a speck, on a map. A shirt too tight but makes you feel presentable. Who am I trying to impress? My coworkers, my family, myself, everyone who sees me. How can I go from flying high cause a young child says I’m skinny to eating all the food in my house cause I’m not going to be active. The shyness to this day that kept me from going to an open class. Why the need for validation? The laziness because I can’t get up and clean my house, fold my laundry, or make my lunch. Convincing myself to go to lectures that I am interested in. But those should be easy right cause I get to hide in the background and not be noticed. Although everything about my being is shouting screaming for your attention. And even the stray thoughts that if I made this work known to the public it would be respected. HA! I have to know that this whiny self glad-handing drivel is not meant for consumption. It would be, rightfully so, laughed out of court. Torn to shreds but even that is lofty that would take for granted that just because I published it that it would even be read. Truth is it would be ignored which is worse. Sat on the table, back hall library and left to attract the dust and moths the only usefulness to correct a table leg or keep the fires lit even though the heat is working.
3rd Entry
Observe, Relate, Decide. My entire career has included theses terms or something very close. Yet what do they truly mean? I can Webster them and it still yields nothing. It gives no insight to the whole because I don’t feel whole myself so how can I give a whole person where only a 3/4ths or 2/3rds person sits. Sitting always sitting. Sitting stops my progress halts my efforts. Opens the door to sleeping or paralysis which is more applicable. I love to be without purpose but it cages me. Boxes me in without a window but makes me free at the same moment. Freedom from every calorie, fat (or the concern), exercise, cleaning, folding, dishes, clothes. So much freedom, oh, but then I stand up pulled out of sitting by practical things (job/rent). Now the paralysis is gone the scales lifted from my eyes. And I awaken to shame, fierce and frenzied, anger going through the lineage of what ifs. How I could of change the outcome had I done this or that. Know what should happen and then to face the scale the next morning and discover the effects of my sitting. The crazy terror of how far I haven’t come. That I could stay in the moment daily, hourly, minutely and stop the merry go round. Stop the sit encouraged by breaking free and finding a new place, NOT the CAGE.
4th Entry
That I never had to be in my apartment more than a moment it is what pulls at me to never leave. Good intentions go out the window when I am here too long. I have stopped to be still working on mindfulness and everyone is in my head. “Get on Instagram” I’m told over and over you would like this person that person cause they are doing the same thing and they will show you how it’s done. But my purpose is to figure myself out, at the ripe age of 33, on my own. I have listened to everyone around me for years have been told all that at I am doing wrong by myself and others. I desire to accomplish my awakening on my own steam and thoughts. And yes my love of books has shaped this desire but I still want my own brain and heart to inspire me to my goals whatever they be. So here I sit again on a night when the world is outside watching different types of salt light up the night sky and I am alone listening to the music of their crackles and pops seeing the boom in Technicolor in my mind’s eye. Because once again I didn’t have anywhere to go and really didn’t realize that a display would be going on tonight. Even though I daily scour the community calendars for even a hint of something that I can watch or do to make the night not quite as long. The friends the books are quiet this night and provide no comfort to my heart which is an acute ache that will last until morning when I attempt to start over. Start over like a gamer rebooting his avatar, oh for it to be that simple, to fix everything and start afresh with a CTRL+ALT+DEL. Ability to erase my mistakes from yesterday but where would the learning lie the growth. As you can plainly tell I would do the same patterns as I already do but the chastising would be less because poof it didn’t happen. That chocolate cake, that pint of ice cream, that bag of chips (and don’t forget the queso) would round me out, call my bluff and send me back to where I started because eventually you have play where to lied down to die.