This blog entry is a dive into some personal meditative repetitive thoughts not designed for public consumption.
The heavier I get (that is, the more fat that accumulates in my posteriour area), the more difficult does reaching around to clean feces from my anal area with toilet tissue after defecating become.
At nearly 250 pounds of body weight, I have reached a new upper limit to my adult size (the minimum being 166 around 1982).
When I was younger, I had occasional thoughts about whether I was taking good enough care of myself to be an exquisite corpse.
That's why a funeral pyre or other form of cremation is in my future.
There's a certain freedom in knowing it doesn't matter if I live a long life - fewer funds expended on life-extending medicine, exercise equipment/clothing and gym memberships.
It's my path toward less vanity in daily living.
Of course, the level of states of energy in my body (e.g., hormones) influence my life-stage decisions.
From now on, the days will pass by, separated by dream states, and natural end of self gets closer.
The body parts slowly lose their fight against entropy.
My goal of becoming less interesting becomes more and more achievable.
No more wordsmithing tricky work combinations.
No more revealing how our simple social connections work.
Leave the planet in better shape than I first occupied it.
Let the hordes of junk dealers/collectors sort through the junk I've hoarded, dealt and collected.
Happiness is a type of silence.
Go in peace, like a slight breeze through the forest, rearranging leaves randomly, without prejudice or bias, nothing to forgive or forget.
And then there were four.
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