I am fat. For those of you who know me by sight you will likely disagree with me but it is so. As I showered today I noticed that I can see fairly few of my fairly few muscles, and cannot quite find a great place on my body that I can grab anything less than a handful of flabby flesh matter. Perhaps I do not show it well, I can apparently hide my fat in my boyish good looks (which themselves connote young fat and are not quite as much good as boyish).
As I oggle with disgusted eyes my naked form (which is not so formly anymore) I cannot comprehend how it happens. How people become fat. I am in no way “obese” by definition, at least not objectively obese. I am, perhaps, I believe, subjectively obese. I know all that know me are now knowingly speaking all the dark words they know at this knowledge I am spewing unbeknownst to the fact that I truly am obese. Subjectively. It IS true I weigh no more than something like 65 kilos (or 145 pounds to those who dislike the beautiful system of Metric). I am by no means stout to any but my eyes likely. Perhaps if you all had the chance to grab my buttocks you would realize that, though well padded, it takes far too long to reach a muscle.
It perplexes me how someone can get further than I am in “weight”, which I am using in the context of fat not pounds. I hope that all those who find themselves to be fat can be happy to know that I know how you feel, though you would hate me for it. I now feel as though I can sympathize with those who feel they are but a blob of fat, and feel as though they should be throwing their stones out the window by means of a better lifestyle. I sympathize. Goodnight children.
Jimmy "The Whimmy" Mercer
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