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The ectomorph days

September 29th, 2018 Leave a comment Go to comments

Long and lean, that was me once. A large T-shirt was the right length, but it would still look kind of baggy on me. I had to be really careless to gain any weight without trying. Those were the days, for sure. The best. But that was all before I fell into that vat of toxic waste.

Trite, I know. Wish I could’ve gotten a Batman movie or something out of the deal, but instead I’ve got this goiter that’s enveloped half my body and turned me into a human pear. And don’t get me wrong, it’s more comfortable than it looks, though obviously I’d trade for my pre-toxic body in an irregular heartbeat. Still, people stare. Oh, do they ever.

When I was a beanpole that wasn’t the case, but I now understand which is preferable. Wallflowers aren’t so bad, you know? And there are girls that really like the ectomorph physique, you know? I had a girlfriend for a while who told me I had a European body, which made me feel really good, though I suppose I never entirely understood why.

I get it much more now, on the other side. The slim days were the best, like nothing else, and now all this bloated flesh does is float me further away from everyone. I’m an excommunicated iceberg, bobbing along and longing for the former self. Long and lean.

Categories: death
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