I'm gaining weight. I stopped exercising and now I'm gaining weight. I know how much because I fear facts. The bathroom scale speaks truth like an asshole who lacks empathy. I'm sure the gain is minuscule compared to the amount I lost in the Spring, but still, for some reason I'm hung up on it like some teen aged girl worried about prom.
This world is so confusing. I mean our world. The human world. Specifically, the American world. So much value is placed on waifish, emaciated bodies and yet King Television forces us to worship the almighty Dorito. The fuck? How are we all not mentally ill from the constant bombardment of contradictions? People are losing their feet due to diabetes, and yet Coca-Cola tells me I can't make friends unless I buy them a Coke. Fuck you, Coca-Cola. I love you, but I have to kill you.
So here I am contemplating my large belly and neck fat why? Why am I troubled with it? Whose evil plan am I falling into? Which bait did I take?
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