Y10...Diego Prazmowski Baczyk....Monologue

A talk with obesity

For many beautiful years filled with praise and satisfaction, I have lived in Britain. Regrettably my job required me to immigrate to the United States, land of the free racist patriotic fat pricks. You see, I abolish obesity and seeing as the U.S was filled with overweight morons, well, you know. And no, I am not a plastic surgeon…I am of the highest quality, a homicidal maniac with a senseless grudge against people with overweight disorders. Do not inquire as to the origin of my insanity nor the reason for my contempt, for not even I know it. Yet, in a quite perturbing way, I am intrigued by their unusual capacity to devoir a weight greater than their own human body. I guess one of the things that most eminently agitate my vowels is that they are capable of eating healthy, it’s not like we lack healthy food! They can choose what and how much to eat!

I do not wish to be discourteous towards the people who fill their bellies with the filth provided by fast food companies. “McDonald’s” actually stated in a law suit that their processed products may be more harmful than the unprocessed good. It is the fast food companies that force the youth to consume these fat producing goods. Their incessant advertisements and alluring propaganda makes their waste irrationally a necessity. I have been here in the U.S for less than a week and I already feel compelled to satisfy my cravings with a fat-dripping, gruesome ham-burger. I would have already done so if I hadn’t found the selfish slaughter of cows rather lamentable.

I remember a Tuesday night in the outside of a mall. I went there actually to make some contemplating on what revolting places malls are, packed with ignorant fiends seeking how to spend the remains of their life-savings; but I digress. I saw a man, bald except for the sides of his head, glasses aiding only to improve vision to observe his own nose and clothes that seemed to have been with him all his life – the fat in his body slipped from above his shorts and dripped towards the ground like a melting ice-cream cone. I waited for it to fall onto the ground but it never did. He had this ridiculous smile, like expressing illogical happiness or pleasure. He had brought a little big-eyeballed child with him and sat him on a trashcan. It was when he grabbed the boy and shook him and his teddy-bear that I had a sudden impulse to grab a nearby pipe and fling it at his self-satisfied head. The pipe bounced off him like a tennis ball as he fell onto the ground. But his fat would not let him hit the floor so he lay supported above the ground like some sort of monument. I asked the boy what it was that the man was doing and he said that he was helping him find his mom. I thought it was a weird way of looking for someone with his pants half way down and a devious glare in his eyes. But anyhow, this might have been what stuck in my mind for so long in one dark corner, I remembered that Tuesday was U.F.O night and ran.

It’s quite irrational that a human being exterminates his race for an aesthetic disturbance but still it is a worthy workout to my body. I doubt you would have guessed my appearance correctly, based on my attitude and form of action against individuals with these particular physical…emmm…detriments. But my dark-skinned 190kg body remains identical, regardless of my opinion or common preconception of people who haven’t seen me. I guess I am the least suspected person of all the possible fat-guy-murderers. It is rare to see an overweight man slaughtering many obese people. But even so, my hatred towards myself is equal to all the past ones, only that in my case the tip of the knife is obstructed by the fat in my body and eludes my heart.

I have tried to rid this world of yet another “victim” to the preliminary judgement and depression, resulting in an exaggerated ingestion of repulsive foods: myself. But my expanded body caused my arms to shrink into my fat; I can no longer reach a weapon and point it at my head. It’s like I’m a ball of fat moving with barely any legs peering from underneath my accumulation of greasy fat. I occupy two lanes on the street for Chrissake!

(I have a little seal friend that hovers around me because I have my own fatty gravitational pull. Thus my little seal friend orbits me like a moon around a planet.)

Due to personal shame and embarrassment name excluded…come on as if you didn’t know whose it was…