Australian wine, as I have worked hard all day, and it is time to unwind (I like that word), and hopefully get some sleep. I don't know if I should write everything on my mind, or censor some of it. Should I speak the truth? What is the point of publishing if it isn't honest? I love to read things people write, when it is from the heart, even if I disagree with it...and I think, who, other than my close friends even reads this? Its no massive revelation, don't get excited, its just my feelings.
Yesterday when I was on the train, no-one would sit next to me. The train was pretty crowded, and I saw many folk eye the space next to me, but obviously I was overlapping that bit too much and they didn't want to have that contact. It sure was upsetting, I was smooshing myself as small as possible in anticipation but nobody came through.
On the way home, a fellow did sit next to me, and I was so glad, I nearly smiled at him. It is strange being a stranger here, most people ignore me, but when a stranger does smile or acknowledge me, my heart zooms out to them with such gratitude.
But why are people scared of me? Because I am fat? Or white, or foreign, or a woman? Or something else? I make great attempts at hygiene, so I know I don't smell! I know I look very different from the majority of people here, and I think maybe they are afraid of me, perhaps.
I remember last time I was here, feeling the same way at first, but by my 3rd month, suddenly strangers in my neighbourhood seemed to see me, and I wasn't so invisible, in fact, some even made contact. I hate to think it was because I had lost weight, and was perhaps more attractive, or less repulsive. These are things that are on my mind, and I know I am not being paranoid.
Last night I was watching a doco on Kurosawa, the film maker, and he spoke about he sacrifices individuals were expected to make, on behalf of the common good. Maybe being fat demonstrates a greed, a voracious appetite that is selfish...I mean, I do eat more than many people, and choose the wrong foods, and eat for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with hunger.
But when I was coming home last night I still felt my life force surging through me, and I am feeling fitter than I have all year, since my operation, and I was walking tall, with confidence, striding and overtaking most people, and I just have to keep that image of myself in my head, and not collapse into a calorie sucking machine.
That said, last week I stumbled upon a small tent city and I took some photos, as theplaces were so well kept, and so small, and so interesting.
I feel that there is something wrong with me, taking photos of homeless people's dwellings, but I am also so drawn to makeshift shelters.
No comments:
Post a Comment