Ridicule is in Ridiculous

How do I live my best life? I lift every day. Heavy things. As heavy as possible. That means inside and outside… dumbbells, kettlebells, my own leg as much as I can to get it behind my shoulder…. as well as the emotional gunk and psychological junk that blocks the free flowing form that is me…Or else I’m a liability. That is how I get through it all.

I was taking a shower this morning at the gym. Moving super fast. Octopus arms.. I had about eight minutes to get ready from wet gym-clothes off to jacket on and walking up the stairs.

I spit in the shower. Like a back-of-the-throat-sound spit. It wasn’t a disgusting nose-clearing spit, just a little excess saliva from high intensity exercise.

And I hear, “Oh My God.” I shook it off. I was near positive that it wasn’t for me. I continue.

Soap is in my hand now, I’m lathering and I spit again and hear her talking like in full sentences.. I couldn’t make out what she said, and even though she started the moment I spit, I was sure she was talking on her phone, or having issues of her own.

I mean this is her world too.. 

Maybe she forgot her conditioner. Honest mistake. I rinse.

It’s almost getting out time now, and as usual. The steam mixed with chlorine had done it’s magic: I blow a snot rocket.

Only to hear a very aggressive, “Are you kidding me?”

Ok. This is my shower. Also, you can’t see me. I’m behind a curtain. 

Your water doesn’t touch mine, we are not at the sink side-by-side. 

She doesn’t fucking know me. 

What I’ve been through. The ridicule I’ve seen.

I used to have one fucking eyebrow. OK.

Just a fallen headband of hair, right here across my forehead. I can’t even grow it back if I tried. 

That’s how many years I have been plucking, waxing, carving out my existence in this world.

Time, I’ll never get back, Never! And all the better, as I have given my life shape.

Those hairs don’t even grow anymore. I won.

So take a fucking hint, lady. You obviously don’t know the efficiency of a snot rocket.

Trying to make me feel bad. I’m 35 – without husband, no children, not a mortgage in sight…. But you know what I have.. I’ve already got a facebook account to make me self-conscious about those details, so you’ve got no shot, lady.

Also, what is wrong with people who get grossed out by humanisms. 

These people are really crazy like truly out-of-this-world crazy. 

People who say such things like “I hate feet.”

You hate feet. Those feet carry you and your bullshit around all goddam day.

What do you think of your asshole? Or my asshole? Your mouth? And teeth?

We are all disgusting – but worse than any humanism is repression.