Guess which one I am?

I am enjoying yet another evening of watching movies and sitting on my fat ass. I have become rather proficient at this, being a daily practice for me. I just got done watching a movie where the guy gets the girl, despite unsurmountable odds that could have been simply side-stepped if he had his self-realization a little early in the show. Sweet, precious, tender, and all that jazz. Here is my problem with these shows that I insist on surrounding myself with -- the after feeling.

The after feeling that everything is going to be okay, and my problems can be conquered if I have a similar transformation as the main character. As much as I enjoy a good movie, the after feeling is always a bit of a two-edged sword for me. Because the moment I realize that my life ticks in real time, and not the cut-to-the-next-scene time that movies roll in, I understand that the side stepping takes a considerably longer period of time. And the problem with that is that the after feeling of the movie has worn off long after I have started the step, and now the motivation to stay out of the way of the wall is gone. Then I get knocked flat on my ass, back to the couch and watching another movie that will only perpetuate my terrible lifestyle.

This is a sort of journal for me, since I don't really keep any form of a journal, whilst being my therapy. Some would argue that a journal is inherently therapy, and I would agree to most degrees. But my therapy isn't the typical cry-my-eyes-out-and-confess-my-nightmares kind of therapy. Instead, I am going to be doing the only kind of useful therapy I have come to recognize -- physical.

I have tried to talk out my feelings and emotions, but most times, my emotions and feelings can't be categorized by the mere usage of words. Instead, I have found that when I am angry and I yawp, I can express far more the intentions of my feelings rather than simply saying, "I'm angry." So my therapy, barbaric as it may seem, will be an analysis of my life through the exploration of the physical being.

In short, I have a fat ass and would not like to have a fat ass any longer. I could go on and say all the feelings surrounding my fat ass, thus making it larger, but I would rather just get on with it. The only thing that might be pertinent to the why of this blog is the very reason for why in so many movies -- a girl. And though I haven't given her the slightest inclination that I have feelings besides that of friendship for her, I do believe that if I am to be successful in courting her, I have to give her the best option of me that I can afford -- and the current me is not, by any stretch of the imagination, the best option.

I have lost weight before, and it was a tedious and terrible experience. I kept the weight off for a couple of years, and then it slowly built back into the hulk I am today. The issue I had with how I was when I was thin was the person I had become. I was a douche bag. I took pleasure in leading girls on and then cutting them off, and I felt good about it. That's the kicker. When I was fat, I could never see myself doing that, because I considered myself lucky to even have a girl look at me twice; but once I got there, I became the kind of guy I despised. I sunk into depression, and ate myself back into my massive body.

Now here I am, feeling like I should lose the weight again, but not lose the me that wants me to be there. I want to lose weight, change lifestyles, and not have to worry about what body parts are going to hurt if I move faster than a leisurely stroll. And the reason I am not telling family, friends, or anybody else about this blog is the fact that almost everyone that I know is in much better shape than I am. And I absolutely HATE it when I have people cheering me on at the finish line, but nobody is walking beside me towards the goal. Nothing is more debasing than that. It almost feels like The Little Red Hen story where everybody is excited for the end result, but nobody wants to help with the work. In that instance, I would rather be at the finish line alone than have to put up with the incessant cheering the entire way. It would be easier to turn around and walk away from the irritating cheers.

So, I am going to go it alone, and walk to a different finish line. I'm not going to tell anybody about it, and even if their perceptions tell them that I have lost weight, I can simply veer away from the topic. I am bizarre enough that those that I associate with won't think anything of a sudden change in sub... I am currently having issues with my internet, and having issues with another show where yadda yadda yadda.

Heaven help anyone who stumbles onto this blog, but if you would like to check back with me, you are more than welcome to. I will hopefully find the time to right on this blog almost every day of the week, as I intend to give an accounting of my every day activity sheet, and possibly rate on a scale of 1 to 10 of how fat I am feeling for the day, with 10 being like Jabba the Hutt. If you happen to be someone like me, who hears or sees an advertisement for weight loss being pitched by a slender person, and desperately wishes to see them gain a couple hundred pounds to see if they're still cheering you on at the finish line, then I invite you to talk the walk with me. Because if the people that walk with you on your journeys through life are the same people that end up with you at the end of the race, you're success will have greater definition and meaning. The ends will, in this case, justify the means.

Fat score for the day: 10