Saturday, July 21, 2007

Journal (continued), July 21, 2007

Because what is sex, afterall, besides conformity? Sex is produced by television. Sex is a bag of potato chips with a fat man. Why isn't he fat at the time? Why doesn't he stop whining & wincing & rejecting everyone foolish enough to get to know him? What is sex, really, except a false arrangement? A bypass to a trip to the gym? Why doesn't the fat whiner go to the gym & try his whining on someone there? It sounds like I’ve met a fat man; I haven’t, but I've met them before, and it’s always the same -- that I take a dim view of them later -- fat men are all alike. Why, if that is so, do I not like thin men, then? I have taken a stand against thin & short men -- not in themselves -- but for me. This has resulted in a mistaken willingness to meet fat men who joined the military or who snarl at their loved ones or who are too mean. Why are fat men mean? Does it make sense that they would be mean, when someone has been willing to know them? They ought to hide in shame if so, but they are fat, so they take up spaces. Not so with fat women. Fat women come in two sizes. Why do fat men & women not enjoy each other? Why don’t the good fat women take up with the good fat men? Let the snarling & whining fat ones enjoy it. At least I am not too thin to be restive. I look like a doe in the mirror. I look like a doormat, someone said, a two-cent; but to my eye, I look like a doe.

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