i have broken.
i’m literally on the floor.
don’t step on me
i want to be honest with you guys.
i know i maybe judged.
i am prepared for it…
i haven’t gone back to the gym since that first day.
there i said it.
well first you can wipe that look of disgust off your face before i continue.
it’s not that i don’t want to go.
i am not a quitter.
(that contradicts the point of this entry)
(maybe i need to say that in an affirmation?)
the gym is really intimidating almost.
i’m completely new.
i have no one to help me.
can’t afford a personal trainer.
those machines look like they should be in war of the worlds.
i’m around all those big ass incredible hulk wolves,
who can easily pick up a 500 pound weight and juggle it.
they are looking at my ass contemplating suicide with a 30 pound.
then can we talk about the eating?
wtf do i eat?
none of the stuff i cook!
wait a damn minute buddy!
i feel like they should have said during sign up:
before you sign this dotted line,
know that cookies and sugar is completely out of your diet.
don’t even look at a donut.
it will kill you.
sugar will kill you.
I WILL KILL YOU!
from now on,
you’ll be eating squirrel’s nuts and killer whale’s guts.”
i see all these wolves/hybrids/and foxes on instagram,
eating all kinds of nasty shit.
shit that looks like it should be served at a prison dining hall.
lard with chicken feed for lunch?
no thank you.
it’s too much.
i go researching online,
it’s even worse.
i get headache.
i want a blanket.
the whole working out thing is confusing.
it’s not that i don’t love my body.
i’m not fat.
i’m not skinny.
i have big thighs and some ass.
my pecs don’t need an a cup bra.
i’m that confusing mix in between.
thanks fast metabolism.
i just want to have a little more definition.
i don’t want to be this big:
i am attracted to wolves/hybrids,
on that rare occasion foxes,
don’t look at me.
is that so wrong?
you know the old saying…?
i’m trying to help my point of why i haven’t been in the gym.
i’m saying i need help…
i just feel pretty UN-motivated with going back….