Tuesday, March 25, 2008

My (adult) body

I love my long hair, curly, full bodied, thick, soft.

I love my face, chiseled, smooth, gentle, soft,

I love my eyes, deep, tired, mysterious. I have a lazy eye which is partially blind.

I love my chest, broad, it is less fat now. I used to have man boobs but now they are slimming down.

I used to hate my nipples, but now with my man boobs going down they look less weird. They do get erect when its cold, and sink in when its warm.

I can see these contours in my body, my ribs, for example, are showing a lot more, the collarbone beneath my neck, which I used to be able to see, then I lost it, and now it has returned.

Recently I have found I can feel it is bony on my waistline.

I see these two lines on all the male model posters, where they have like a pubic bone showing that goes from the base of their genitalia, nearly up to where their kidneys are. It's like a V shape. I remember when I studied greek sculpture there was an archaic period bronze which was very geometrically symmetrical; and he had the V on the pubis, and an upside down V (an A if you will), where the ribs were.

I still have work to do, I still have a belly, a little bit of manboob, and my cheeks look fat.

I am starting to feel sexy, but I have more to go; more of this belly to purge away.

My thighs are quite big. I can see the fatness of my legs when I compare them to other guy. My shins and calfs are significantly muscular, which isn't a bad thing. It's never bad to be big if its muscle, people see that as beautiful.

I like lookign at myself topless, with my flowing hair draping over my shoulders and going halfway down my back. I'm not a little boy anymore...I'm a grownup, I am a Masters student and I am seen as smart, caring, and thinner...then why do I feel so dirty?

Beauty perhaps comes from within, purging is taking all those things inside away. I'm throwing the baby out with the bathwater...this is my way of coping with growing up. I never had a teenage life, I was in seminary school all that time, with no girls, only books.

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