resolute

[glasschild]

I am responsible for nothing more than myself. I think I might really be able to let go of my addiction to other people's approval. This comes as a shock, and my cautious mind almost wants to deny the possibility. I think my mind wants to keep me trapped. I am tired of being this fat. I have been for a while, yes. But getting in shape is sounding better and better to me. The more I care about myself (and naturally less about what other people think), the more I want to do the best for myself. The simplest equations in life, the most obvious, are often the hardest to understand. They make sense, but that's not enough.

I am supremely stubborn when it comes to doing something unfun. I will not (ever!) subject myself to hardship unwillingly. I won't do it for solidarity, and I won't do it if I don't want to just because it's "good for me". I enjoy this because I can suffer the purest form of punishment for my stubbornness. I have no excuse and no way out of my responsibility. Keepin' it real, non-victim style.

My out of shape body is the truest form of me right now. It does not lie about what my state of mind has been. The body might be temporary, and it might be an illusion, but it's still a part of the equation. It is my vehicle, and my prison. It means something, though I postulate that I may conclude its meaning as accurately as I may conclude the very meaning of existence, which is not at all.

Here's to a new year, to the time ahead. A toast to the comfort we have created in time, and the feeling it gives that things can be better.