So we get the SMALL BUS again this morning! FUCK! and everything was going fine until this enormous Amazon woman sat down in the middle seat. She scared me!
The Top Ten that I posted before I left for work was really, really lame, so I'll have to do it over.
Thoughts on the train ride home:
My arms are massive, my thighs are massive, I am an Amazon! Not really, not even close, but I want all my fat to go away, I want to stop eating, I want my superfluous desires to go away. My reflection in subway car window -- hideous! No, it's an illusion; no, not an illusion; but simply irrelevant.
Oh, but everyone says, you're crazy, you're beautiful, you don't need to lose weight, why, look how big so many women are...
R train to Astoria is an envelope of silence, nothing but me and Rufus Wainwright. Playing alphabet with the advertisements to pass the time, to lose my focus on self, disgusting obsessions over chin hairs and breast hairs, pubic hairs. My body is disgusting and my obsession with a perfect body is disgusting and my self-centeredness is disgusting. (blogging is narcissistic and therefore also disgusting).
Sigh. But thank God for the very thin woman who has chosen to sit next to me on the train. No more squishing, please. And yet... and yet... give me an Amazon woman to smack me down, put me in my place for saying all these nasty things. An Amazon woman, and maybe an overconfident, obnoxiously cocky man to spice it up even more...
I am making no sense today but that's OK. P. is probably very aware that I could use a good session with the HB.
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