i'm a fat man at heart

I'm fairly sure I'd be stating the obvious if I started complaining about the heat. But I can't help it. It's so fucking hot. Usually, I can escape the heat by becoming a recluse and only setting foot outdoors to swim for a minute in the pool. But now, I'm sweating in my room getting those cold shivers that you get when you're hot, too hot.

I don't want to do anything. I've been sitting in the house for most of the holidays, being as lazy as I know how. I don't have the motivation to write, to even play Facebook games. I feel stagnant, slow, sweaty - unbearably so.

I'm dreading Big Week Out, school, easter camp, the future. I'm dreading the inevitable.

Every time I pick up a book I feel like shit, because I could be writing, should be writing, should be creating my own sentences instead of living through somebody else's. But every time I think that, I then think fuck that and go play Wii. I laugh at myself for wanting to be an author, because we all know I won't. I can't. It goes against my intensely lazy nature.

I have to say, although the very idea of school makes me want to throw darts at a kitten, I am kinda looking forward to it. Having to do shit, and being punished if I don't, gets me motivated. I may stress and break out in rashes, but at least I get shit done, and done well. When I was pressed for time, I got straight As in Year 11 subjects, lost like four kilos and started a story which I actually like. When I have all the time in the world, I lie on the couch all day, eating whatever shit is the sugariest and gaining God knows how much weight.

At heart, I'm a fat man, I should just embrace that.