Standing outside work having a smoke, looking awesome. Old man walks past, turns, stops and looks at me. Continues looking back at me, smiling a big ole grin. Ugh. Gross. I avoid looking at him. I can see him with my peripheral vision. Ugh. Please keep walking. Short skirt is not an invitation to perve. Fuck off.
I’m building up the balls to look at him, stare him in the face and be all “what are YOU looking at, old man?”
He walks forward purposefully. This guys is going to lunge at me. Ugh. Gross. Panic.
He walks past me, to a small child and woman standing in front of the shop next to mine. Picks up the child and says something to the woman about buying her a fancy watch. They laugh. Walk past me. He wasn’t looking at me at all.
Oh dear sweet wheel of cheese. Have to take my new-body cockiness down a notch.
I felt a little guilty and stupid for a minute, also grateful that I didn’t pull out the seldom-used aggression against perves. Boy would my face be red. And then the next guy who walked past, did give me a filthy pervy look. But I realised, one of the reasons old guys might think I’m giving them the come on and rape me signal, is that I have this wisdom tooth at the back of my jaw that always feels like there’s food stuck in it, but it’s just because it’s not fully in place yet and it feels funny. So I constantly have my tongue rummaging around at the back of my cheek. Which is a fairly unequivocal “gonna suck out all your love juice” gesture. Have to remember to stop doing that.
Anyway today I’m feeling a little bit shitty, probably from the lack of food. Yesterday I ate a banana and half a frozen pizza. And drank about 2 litres of water. Go anorexia! That’s probably more than an anorexic eats though. And today I’m not feeling the best.
But I press on. I’m not worried about becoming a skeletor with facial fuzz from lack of nutrients. I know next week I’ll be back on a drip of wine and cider, and my mother won’t let me get away with eating a piece of fruit and half a piece of cardboard with a drizzle of tomato style sauce substitute. She’ll make me eat vegetables and everything.
And I’ve been trying to find this article I read once, it was really good, although depressing as fuck. I can’t find it online because anything with this genre of search terms is buried down the very end of the ooooooooooooooooooooooo in google, behind e-books that reveal the secret free nutrient that’s making you fat if only you pay now because there is a limited number of e-books available. Yes. The gist, anyway, was that people who are considered to have low self esteem and body dysmorphic disorder and basically anything that makes you think you’re a piece of shit, are right. If you think you’re worth as much as a chat up line involving astrology, then you win the prize of being lucid, and depressed. People who feel good about themselves are deluded. This mystery article that I can’t dig up (in my half-assed, in between customers at work kind of way) claimed that subjects were asked to rate themselves on attractiveness, and the sane people invariably gave themselves much higher scores than strangers who rated them anonymously. People with body dysmorphia were much closer in the scores they gave to the scores they received from others. The only thing I could find on this, but then I lost it again… sorry I’m shit at research… was about the non-body image aspect of this, but the guts of it was, people who are sane consider themselves to be more incontrol, have better prospects and better qualities than it is realistic for them to believe. So what I’m saying here, why I’m bothering to share this in such an unacademic blurb, regurgitating morsels I may or may not have chewed properly, is that if you think you rock, you are wrong. If you think you’re going to die alone and are fat and unappealing and people only sleep with you because they are drunk and hey, a fleshy crevice is a fleshy crevice, a meat sword is a meat sword, and at least it beats whacking off alone… then you are in your right mind. Rejoice! Your perceptions are unskewed. Don’t even bother. This is as good as it gets for you. Not everyone can be better than everyone else. I’m already taking up the awesomeness of about 12 people, so someone has to pay the price. I’m sorry. It’s just how it is.
But I think it’s pretty fucked up anyway. To be a healthy happy functioning member of society, you have to be pretty fucking deluded.
But not too deluded.
I have a seriously warped and perverted ego, whispering “you da man, you da man” in my ear as I strut around town, unseen by people I consider are checking me out. I DO think “you’re so vain” is about me.
And I’m not doing too great in this seething pit of sufficient delusion we call society. Maybe I’m just a little too happy in my boots. Maybe my feet smell and no one tells me. But fuck it. Soon I will be so skinny, there will be a gap at my crotch, just where my thighs currently meet and jostle for space. Soon the chasm between my ego and my reality will be a little closer. And we don’t want them to get too close, or I’ll be crazy. Just a little over confident.
Ahhh chest pains. Smoking too much. Eating too little. Fucking have to give up smoking too. Ego also makes me think I’m immortal.