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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: profile


08.06.20

Feeling undermotivated these days. Heavy and uncomfortable. Pandemic blues? Attached to my phone, watching too much tv, eating too much cake and ice cream, avoiding my mother, not drinking enough water, staying up too late, procrastinating on chores, feeling burdened by the blank page, too aware of my own stupidity and foolishness, missing friends, not enough yoga, too much smoking and feeling. The list goes on.

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I think of Maeve the other night, remarking on how I have lost weight. It was discomforting. We were at a small gathering outside her house, and I watched as she moved about, lifting glasses and empty bottles, putting down more bowls of crisps and nuts, removing herself from conversation and camaraderie. Women are expected to devote themselves to chores and errands, the running of households, never mind our own desires; to disappear, in body and spirit. Lose weight, and lose ourselves; lose the gravity and heft we've accumulated by the sheer and miraculous feat of living.




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