It is past 5 and so I am taking myself off the clock.

Perhaps I should get fatter so that I can stop flirting recklessly with people I should not be flirting with at all.
Perhaps I should figure out what is the cause of my inability to keep my inner sex panther caged up.

Perhaps I will stay glued tight to the door frame, looking trouble in the face but only looking.

I can feel the bones of my ribs now, and I want to run my fingers over them again and again. Playing that old children’s piano ditty of running your knuckles over the black keys on the piano, feeling the knuckles I now have knocking on the ribs I now have.

I think that I have not devoted enough time to the weight I’ve lost this year and the many ways that I have changed mentally and emotionally as a result. I probably should, since spending so much time as a fat kid makes me too delighted to receive inappropriate attention which is, well, inappropriate.

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