Space – Just not enough
Snorts – Hate the sound of it
Gags –Victimized, totally!
Warning: Fat – 100%
All that it takes is just a little more – the catcalls, whispers (‘loud whispers’ to be more precise), bullies’ jargon, the ‘I-know-something-that-you-don’t’ look and a whole network that goes ‘wink, wink, wink’ (trust me, you won’t be flattered). You’re in the limelight, yeah, but for no virtuous reasons honestly.
So, the spotlight is on you. More often than not, you would be enthralled. But not right then. You feel the heat of the notched focus desperately ask for an overwhelming force that digs you a grave right beneath. Extreme, no doubt. But anything for a place to rest in peace. “But with sufficient space, I hope?” (your mind tends to joke). Strange, but there are moments when your own senses act in anti-you fashions. I don’t know if it is because of the state of familiarity that creeps up after steady recurrences of distasteful incidents or just the welcome state of relief that sets in post self-ridicule. You are cruelly exposed to the volume you enclose. You are soon driven into self-pity, despair and gloom.
But, later on all this takes a toll on you and a certain undisputable numbness takes over. Then on it’s plain apathy, vanity (I don’t know why this specific attribute, but it’s true) and outright indifference.
This has been the case for more than a decade. Over the years, I’ve either outgrown my own shoes overnight or suddenly realized that my clothes have been tailored an inch smaller…I’ve wheeled away an eternity with such interesting case studies of myself. I’ve tried everything – die-hard diets, tedious treadmill sessions and annual “lose-it-all” resolutions. But at the end of the day, being the invincible epicure that am, I realize that greed and gluttony have paid faster than my hard work. Finally succumbing to my own discrepancy, with put-on pride and glee I hear myself say in self-consolation, “Blessed. I’ve got more. I’m pervasive. ” What an unbeatable optimist!
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