Fat Eruption So this is a little bit about...a deeply contained emotional fire. It is about a deep rooted parasitic abomination waiting to spring out like a violent wrym from my sub-conscious. It is about the strongest and most violent of feelings that I keep bottling up because I can't afford to let it go. It is about leisure and hell, enjoyment and the complete opposite. If I am not yet perfectly clear enough I feel as though I am going to lose my mind sometimes, because I am so sick and tired of everything I once held dear being ripped away and trampled upon by slow witted, brain dead, slack jawed, knock kneed, noisy useless human impersonations that litter every aspect of life. They are making everyone with any drip of lasting sanity feel as though the world has gone to hell. Yes it may be a gross exaggeration but what else is it? It is a special type of living hell to be a tiny little nothing in the eyes of the world because the fat cancers have rendered it blind. There is no place for body acceptance for the petite mini-bodies that spend the world looking up wondering what it must be like to be normal, and scream to be heard but can't because the world is now deaf too.  Oh! If they manage to open the eyes, and make the world hear the anger that tumbles down is a roar of oppression. How dare you demand to be seen for who you are, to be measured for the worth of your work, and to be recognized for your achievements, choices, and non choices? You are a cunt, a bitch, a fucking whore, you are the problem, and everyone else who steals the worth of others is the solution. There is no room in feminism to talk about that. The fleshy online crusaders can't handle this kind of discussion because it makes them sympathize with human beings, who's only wrongdoing is being a pint sized human wanting to be treated equally. Wanting to not have to fight every single day just to be heard, just to be seen, just to be taken seriously. They don't know about that struggle, and they don't care.  Sometimes after a long day of people, faces, animals, and moving I just want to stand still. Not even cook. Maybe let someone else do that for me? It would be nice, wouldn't it? Yet more and more I question any desire to eat anywhere other than home. Why? Why go eat out? There is cancer everywhere. There is cancer at the hosting desk and there are tumors in the kitchen. There are puffy swollen eye-sores serving, and their body language is all the same. They don't want to be there, and to be honest...neither do you. There are disgusting, abhorrent slug-like parasites wriggling around everywhere in all the booths, at varying stages of atrophy because they have long been dead inside. At work it goes no better. At least the animals are nice to be around, they are more human than most so called humans I get to meet. Words can't describe how angry I get....and how sad I get when an animal goes home with a goddamn fucking grease gobbler. How can you look at animal...knowing it is going to die because you can't deny a sale based on the buyer's BMI? When they walk in it makes me angry. How dare you come into my safe space? This is my happy place. This is the one place where I can...feel happy. Take away social gaming, I was happier playing alone anyway. Take...away THAT which I spent so long working hard for. It's not worth losing my sanity. You know what, you want to be gluttons that bad? Take all the nice local dining experiences...I can eat at home. Feminism? Sure...why not, it's not like we can't call it something else and hold out as long as possible. Don't take the life of a poor helpless being because you are too lazy to be responsible. STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY LAST BASTION OF SANITY. Even that plea falls on deaf ears.  Where am I going with this? I suppose this is why I am here, and why so many others are here too. Yeah, this is at it's core just about hatred but that hate can bind people together. There are probably so many people out there who have learned to cope because they came here. I honestly feel that one day what we are faced with, this parade of cancer infecting the world will be a bad chapter in human history. It'll be because places like this refused to be rendered invisible, and unheard. There are likely so many errors that will make every grammar teacher cringe. I'm sorry for that. I'm tired, and frustrated, and I have no one to talk to about any of this. I have to bottle up my feelings, because no one close wants to hear them.