It is never going to end. I thought that the second the amount of flesh and fat I was no longer carrying with me hit the triple digits my life would change. I would be able to breathe in the clean, clean air and feel it filter through my body, pure and light and refreshing.
Somehow I still feel as though I am moving too much air. I find myself having to navigate around my body because it is constantly in my way. If It could just be a little smaller here, and a little smaller there then I would slice through the world and not make any wakes or disturbances.
How could I have been so blind? There was no light at the end of the tunnel. I was not working, and suffering, and trying and fighting for any kind of victory. I was working and suffering and trying and fighting for more of the same. For the opportunity to do it all again, only harder, and with more discipline and more passion and promise.
I'm trapped inside my own mind and this stupid body I have to wear, and I am never going to get out.