licorice

August 2, 2014 § Leave a comment

Dad made a shelf for my art outside in the garage. It flips up when we need it to, like one of those beds that folds up into the wall. I’ve lost some weight, so that makes me feel a bit better, a bit in control of myself. I can’t help but wondering what would happen to me if I ate like a regular person. My metabolism is so shot, I think about how much I eat on various days, when I can just maintain my shape, and it’s not much I don’t think. I’ve been pondering starting attempts to run again, even though I have the worst form. I run like a dinosaur, with my little hands creeping up, despite trying to remain conscious of it. They flop in front of me and I imagine I look like a velociraptor running, or hopping if you like. And I just think of the scene in Jurassic Park when the two or three of them are hunting the children through the kitchens. I’d have to wake up at 5 or earlier so no one saw me. God knows it’s embarrassing enough, trying to start running, when I’m such a shit athlete. It’d probably take me months and months of vigorous practice to be able to run for any significant amount of time.

Plus I don’t like anyone seeing me around town anyway, because I’m such an embarrassing drunken idiot to most of them. It takes a long time for anyone to forget.

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You are currently reading licorice at the Bulimic Baker.

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