Purple. Turtles. Mixed kid status.

Rant.

  Now, I’m posting this because I know for damn sure Samantha Michelle Gatewood won’t read it, at least not for a while. That’s good enough for me. I’m also confident that almost none of my like, not even ten of my followers will read this, and if they do, whooptie-flip. IDGAF, nigga.

  So it’s about 3:40 am, and I’ve just put down my digital version of John Green’s “Will Grayson, Will Grayson” that i’m reading, via my mid-range, pre-paid Android phone. Now there’s a reason I’m telling you this, (more the book part, not the phone), and it’s all about a character in the book. Tiny Cooper, the large, gay best friend of the first Will Grayson, and boyfriend of the second Will Grayson. Tiny is a big dude, he sounds a bit like me, in physical attributes, not personality wise. He’s a larger fellow. Reading about him has made me think about myself.

  Now, Tiny is described as a large, strong, and gay football player, who’s build sounds a bit like mine, probably taller, but I digress.  As I read and re-read the descriptions of Tiny’s build, I begin to think of my own body. During high school, I knew I was fat, but due to football I knew I had at least some build to me, I had a reason to be confident about myself, a little. Now, as I sit here in my soon-to-be-evacuated bedroom I just feel plain fat. I’m utterly disgusted with my figure. The worst part about it is, even if I DO get motivated enough to start working out again, three outcomes will probably happen,

• Outcome one: I start going to the Rec more and more whilst at school, since I’m closer to it now, anyway, and I get in a few good workouts for a week and then I’m done because I’m lazy. Repeat of last year.
• Outcome two: I actually stick to the workout regimen set by myself, and probably a bunch of internet fitness blogs, and shit. and I lose a bunch of weight. Which is great, except there’s no possible way for me to tone up ALL of the excess skin I would have, I mean come one, I have woman breasts. I’d have to get surgery later on in life to fix it.
• Outcome three: I have a light workout schedule, and whatnot, and I’m back to high-school status where I really only cared about being strong, and toned in my arms, calves, and chest up. Because, I looked DAMN sexy from the chest up, nigga. I mean I shill have some of the muscle mass I had two years ago, but I’m losing it. I like being strong

  I really just want to buy smaller clothes, and not be winded after simple acts. I’m ashamed of what I’ve let myself become. I don’t mean just now, I mean my entire life. I really wish I would have had some sort of middle school epiphany, in which I decided to be healthy and normal, like the normal kids. It was bad enough I was black in a 98.5% white school, but I was also the fat kid. I just want to feel normal.

  I honestly sometimes feel like I should break up with Samantha, so she doesn’t have to carry around the burden of dating a walking heart-attack waiting to happen. I honestly am so lucky to have her, because she’s one of the few girls that actually sees someone’s heart instead of their appearances. I love you, Sammy Jo.

  I’m glad I had the great friends I did growing up, and I glad I have the ones I have now. Thankfully, I never had any that would pick on me about my size. I mean really just pick. Regardless, I love them. 

  To wrap this up, I just wish I was normal, not even skinny, just average sized, and healthy. Here’s hoping. 

-Jebediah Lewis Grant Peavler