This is repost as I didn’t like the lay out and I wanted to change a few things.
It’s the middle of the night and all I really want to do is sleep, but my body is once again fighting me. Like it has since I was a small child. I got the idea that I would go to one of the message boards and ask a question, a question that no one can really answer, but I wanted it there more as an identifier to myself? To prove to myself that I am asking these questions, because there are times that I think just by the simple act of asking a question you are providing yourself with resolve? I am not sure though?
It seems that when I think of these questions, they are usually late at night, and they are usually an internal question that only I can ask, but for some reason, like the chick that looks in the mirror and asks her new boy friend; “Do these jeans make my butt look fat?” The obvious answer is no honey! With a silent mumble to one’s self that it isn’t the jeans that make your butt look fat, it is that you have a fat butt!
My point being is that I believe I know the answer, but there is this feeling of idealism that I have at least done my job, that I have tried to get an objective answer. But for matters like this question, there is no objectivity, only loose based self indulgent opinions that really no matter more then the rumblings regarding the fat ass. The answer is there, like the Woman, I really don’t wish to hear the honest answer. This of course why I ask a group of strangers this question, so I will get the answer I want, and I can hide the truth regarding my fat ass in those snug jeans like everyone else does.
The pain never really stops, it just pauses at times. It is honestly better to be hated for what people think I am, then to hate myself for what they want me to be!
