I'm always on about the equilibrium: the way of living a life without appealing to extremes which in a sense expose some form of self-indulgence. I suppose we may appeal back to Aristotle's Eudaimonia. In fact, I think it is exactly the same thing.
I am becoming more sensitive about two particular kinds of thinking: Mia thinking and Fat thinking. The very fact that I'm saying 'fat thinking' sort of makes me sound like a fat-ist person. I am looking at the moment at a girl on a social networking site, and seeing how cleverly placed photos try to make her look attractive. I was almost taken by her photoshopped procelain white headshot, taken from above. She looks almost oriental-esque (purposeful racial imagery in the 'shopping process, no doubt), glamorous as her shiny lips glow in the picture and how her porcelained white flesh melds into the expanse of nothingness.
The picture of this woman are all of her face, headshots. These pictures focus too much on the parts of her she wants to convey to others. The only parts that she likes about herself, and the ideals that she tries to convey is some warped notion of her 'thin' ideal. I see it so clearly she is a fraud.. This woman strives too hard to the ideals of the thin that she decieves through photography.
I sound like a bastard, a horrid bastard whose analysis communicates truths; be it my own inner insecurities, or hers. I suppose that is why my friends often say that my outlook promotes a good basis for being a stand up comic. I have increasingly considered that as an option. Could I be a comedian?
This woman hides her fat shame. That is how she sees it. A woman once said to me that a body is a history of one's life. Scars, stretch marks, little spots and those other so-called imperfections are what make us beatiful. We carry signs of past battles fought; the scars of self-harm, or a cervical scar from a caesarian; little childhood injuries which may cause a chipped tooth or a slightly shortened finger; tattoos of long forgotten girlfriends or favourite bands and those little spots and beauty dimples that are familial to us, like the Roman nose.
I am not advocating the view that only thin is beautiful. Oh hell no. I think that women can be beautiful in all shapes, sizes, colours, scents, personalites and genetic templates. I can envisage comfortably having some mind blowing sex with an MtF starlet; having a good laugh with an outgoing type; pining for the shy type; lustily playing with the voluptuous and pear shaped one. Personally, I am not sure how I'd see myself with a skinny girl. I mean, how I'd hold her body, how could I admire little dimples if they aren't there? I suppose I'd find some way.
I am increasingly aware of fat and mia thinking. Fat thinking is like the counterpoint of mia thinking. Fat thinking is the saving of face, where the embarrassment is the perception of a travesty body. Mia thinking is, well, aforementioned in previous posts.
I feel that the equilibrium that I must find, the golden rule of good life follows the avoidance of fat thinking without the appeal to dark mia-thinking. I was stupid yesterday and went on some 'manorexia' and 'pro mia' websites for men. It upset me instead of inspired me. I am insecure that I am fat (mia) but I also am afraid of showing the world my obvious fatness and use measures to try to hide it (fat thinking).
Perhaps I should just wear my body proudly, warts and all, belly out, but finding a notion of beauty from being me. I must let the the unchanged self shine through. Not 'thin' self or 'fat' self; just me.
I am becoming more sensitive about two particular kinds of thinking: Mia thinking and Fat thinking. The very fact that I'm saying 'fat thinking' sort of makes me sound like a fat-ist person. I am looking at the moment at a girl on a social networking site, and seeing how cleverly placed photos try to make her look attractive. I was almost taken by her photoshopped procelain white headshot, taken from above. She looks almost oriental-esque (purposeful racial imagery in the 'shopping process, no doubt), glamorous as her shiny lips glow in the picture and how her porcelained white flesh melds into the expanse of nothingness.
The picture of this woman are all of her face, headshots. These pictures focus too much on the parts of her she wants to convey to others. The only parts that she likes about herself, and the ideals that she tries to convey is some warped notion of her 'thin' ideal. I see it so clearly she is a fraud.. This woman strives too hard to the ideals of the thin that she decieves through photography.
I sound like a bastard, a horrid bastard whose analysis communicates truths; be it my own inner insecurities, or hers. I suppose that is why my friends often say that my outlook promotes a good basis for being a stand up comic. I have increasingly considered that as an option. Could I be a comedian?
This woman hides her fat shame. That is how she sees it. A woman once said to me that a body is a history of one's life. Scars, stretch marks, little spots and those other so-called imperfections are what make us beatiful. We carry signs of past battles fought; the scars of self-harm, or a cervical scar from a caesarian; little childhood injuries which may cause a chipped tooth or a slightly shortened finger; tattoos of long forgotten girlfriends or favourite bands and those little spots and beauty dimples that are familial to us, like the Roman nose.
I am not advocating the view that only thin is beautiful. Oh hell no. I think that women can be beautiful in all shapes, sizes, colours, scents, personalites and genetic templates. I can envisage comfortably having some mind blowing sex with an MtF starlet; having a good laugh with an outgoing type; pining for the shy type; lustily playing with the voluptuous and pear shaped one. Personally, I am not sure how I'd see myself with a skinny girl. I mean, how I'd hold her body, how could I admire little dimples if they aren't there? I suppose I'd find some way.
I am increasingly aware of fat and mia thinking. Fat thinking is like the counterpoint of mia thinking. Fat thinking is the saving of face, where the embarrassment is the perception of a travesty body. Mia thinking is, well, aforementioned in previous posts.
I feel that the equilibrium that I must find, the golden rule of good life follows the avoidance of fat thinking without the appeal to dark mia-thinking. I was stupid yesterday and went on some 'manorexia' and 'pro mia' websites for men. It upset me instead of inspired me. I am insecure that I am fat (mia) but I also am afraid of showing the world my obvious fatness and use measures to try to hide it (fat thinking).
Perhaps I should just wear my body proudly, warts and all, belly out, but finding a notion of beauty from being me. I must let the the unchanged self shine through. Not 'thin' self or 'fat' self; just me.
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