I don't know, I doubt if, I will ever lose enough weight to be considered healthy. That sounds tragic, on one note, but also, why should I be so concentrated on these efforts? What is it going to gain me by living healthy? I waste so much of my time listening to songs I'd rather not hear because I can't find something new and refreshing...(Pandora hasn't quite figured out what I like, it seems...).
But then what? I go to the doctor and find some way to "manage" or "treat" a "disease" that I, for all intensive purposes, created by my own freedom of choice. And someone else pays for it. I don't have insurance, at least none that I pay for. I'm on welfare. So what's the point? If I'm unwilling to do what it takes to be healthy, what can a doctor do for me except extend my life by another excruciating 20-40 years? Death should not be so vilified. Death = eternal life. Or, in the case of people who scoff at that, it equals eternal damnation.
Not sure I will actually abide by these words when the time comes. I might find myself pressured into it by my family and acquaintances, and gravitating to it based on my sloth-y ways and mindset that I sometimes refer to as "comfortable living"...I sit in a chair most of the day and surf the web. How much easier could life be? Life isn't supposed to be easy. Enjoyable, ideally, yes, but not easy. Intensity - good and bad - is hard on the heart. I'd rather die at 40 because I lived life to the fullest, not because I sat down in a chair daily eating candy bars and baked goods...
byby
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