Today's peregrinations.

I hate feeling or seeing veins and tendons under my skin. It reminds me that they're there, and I'm vulnerable to sharp objects. I don't like to touch them and think of the blood flow stopping, so I never do. I flinch if people touch the tendons on my neck. I cannot eat meat from the bone. Or cannot abide it, and they're different. It puts me in mind of a corpse.

I don't mind bones in me though. I derive great pleasure from touching my ribs and hipbones. It makes me happy, though I hate the podge between them. Collarbones are a source of concern, pointing to the sternum, but I don't mind them too much. They can be dealt with. They make me look thinner than I am which is a plus.

He once said that I was all bony. Most people say angular. I think fat, and assembled wrong- as if a team of shotputters have thrown clumps of adipose tissue at a large skeletal infrastructure. Stuck on the hips and a fair few other places but not the right ones. What would you say, if you hugged me? I'm smaller than people tend to think, but heavier too. Smaller to hold, heavier to lift. Bonier. You might think I'm not as thin as the others. You might think I'm fine, or thinner. I don't think you would say anything or care. I wonder if you're even aware of eating disorders, of those silly trivial problems? And they really are, why worry about eating when most people in the world worry that they can't. I feel guilty thinking about it. I feel guilty eating because other people can't and I feel guilty not eating because they'd love this food. You don't know I'm hopelessly fixated, at any rate. You might think I'm a little strange, a little irksome, or a lot, but hopefully not when it comes to food, that most trivial of things. I wonder if you ever had eating things like me. I wonder wonder wonder constantly about you, though less today than usual.