Diet, Phase Two
Have you ever noticed the effect your bedroom has on your mood? It varies from person to person, but to me, a messy bedroom is an unsettling reflection of my own psyche (which is all kinds of fucked up). I like to keep it neat, but not TOO neat — neat enough that I can still quickly switch between writing, practicing piano, playing some games, watching a film or going to sleep, all of that without dodging piles of dirty clothes scattered all over the carpet.
The same can be said of my body. I used to weigh 225 lbs. My face was practically a circle and I had horrible concentrations of fat on my abs, butt and thighs. After I started an incredibly radical (but sufficiently healthy) diet, I lost weight until I reached 185, at which point I could no longer stand the constant hunger and resumed my normal food habits (which have never been good).
But the effect it had on my mood was fantastic. Suddenly I could do pull-ups, wear tighter clothes, photograph my face from more than one deceptive angle. It was a completely different life, being thinner. But after a year (and the addition of only six pounds, fortunately), the novelty wore off and I could see the remaining imperfections clearly, because let’s face it — 193 lbs (my current weight) is nowhere near good to a guy who measures 5’11”.
My face is no longer a circle, but it’s oval — and I always wanted a gaunt face. If I loosen my abs, a belly is clearly visible, and my thighs still wobble unflatteringly when I move.
And let’s drop the bedroom metaphor for a second and talk honestly: I also happen to love women and would like to look attractive for them.
“Oh”, someone says. “But women don’t care about looks, they care about personality and —” I interrupt the person with my uproarious laughter and escort them out of Cuckoo Land for my next paragraph.
BULLSHIT. While they certainly care about personality way more than men do (stick your boobs in our face and whether you kill kittens or not mostly ceases to be our concern), it’s obvious the way you look is a factor. And even if it wasn’t, I see it as terribly unfair — attractive women work their asses off to stay attractive and meanwhile all I need to do is make them laugh once or twice, expose one or two deep thoughts and suddenly I’m worth your attention?
Personality is vital, but good looks also matter. Women have a right to lust for well-toned male abs as much as we lust for round female butts.
So now I’m starting phase two of my diet, which will destroy the remaining physical problems I perceive on myself and whatever’s left, I will work out into inexistence. Should take a month or two, since the diet goes like this:
Only one meal a day: a soup full of whatever’s necessary to keep me alive. And for the rest of the day, fruit, whenever I feel like it. Next day, repeat. And so on.
That’s it.
I went from 225 lbs to 185 in two months doing that, and at the end of it I was still perfectly sane (well, as sane as I get). Except that at that point I would get an erection every time I saw a pizza.
And now that I just started the second phase of this diet, everyone will starting talking happily about food I CAN’T FUCKING EAT in three, two, one…
4 months ago • 0 notes