Fat32

Hello All, I'm Mr Farr and the following is an excerpt from my short story collection: FAT32 And Other Stories. The collection itself is around 7,500 words and can be found on Amazon. I appreciate any feedback and hope you enjoy it.

FAT32
(An Anonymous Blog)

Welcome to my blog. This will be my first entry, so I might as well jump into it.
This account will remain anonymous, you will know me only by the username FAT32. I am one of the many people affected by alienation. Although there are a large number of sufferers, no two people are alike and there isn’t a sonorous voice among us. I have been bullied to a stupor but within myself, I am myself, and without me I’d be empty. My mother tried to educate me on the benefits of having thick skin but skin density aside, even if I was the most self assured, podium standing, wreath wearing pageantess, bullying would still take its toll. There is a spotlight on me usually reserved for museum exhibitions. And all I am is overweight. I have been called all sorts and it cuts as though they're trying to help shed the pounds which might explain these incisions on my body.

My situation reminds me of an experiment we did at school. We took two plants and compared how they would grow if their circumstances differed, one by the window soaking in the sun and the other inside a cupboard. I was the plant hidden, but unlike the sun deprived plant I survived with all but a vitamin D deficiency. I sought to get my source of light from elsewhere and confined in my darkened room I found my outlet in literature. As far as I was concerned malnourishment, in this instance, bore fruit; this was what Voltaire meant by cultivating one’s own garden.

I dream of one day breaking down these barriers of ignorance surrounding body image and addressing a fundamental point. If my lifestyle is hazardous to my health the most important word is ‘my’. I don’t require medical attention so rest assured your money is safe to be squandered by those you endorse. My parents say “everyone goes through it” but I seem to be the only one in the year. My passion for literature briefly numbed the pain but as with all painkillers you lose sight of the fact that these issues have to be addressed and can't rely heavily on the numbing agent. My love of books stood firm for a while but then started to falter, overcome by attrition. And when I say attrition I mean it was unrelenting, they were more consistent with name-calling than their studies. The turmoil has gotten so painful, I, the avid reader must now become the writer.

That’s it for my first entry. I have to go to sleep now. Please stay tuned for the next one. I have to apologise if your ribs ache from all the laughter.

...

I never know how to start new entries. It’s Monday, Bob Geldof put it best. I just got home from school. I see these cygnets out my bedroom window and they know.

I was born with a thick bone structure, apple-like in proportion, and better yet to support my love for eating. As Billy Connelly would say I have a slow metabolism and a fast appetite. Despite this, I have not eaten at school for many years. I don’t pack a lunch and I certainly don’t increase my chances of food poisoning by eating the food served. I spend most of break in the library, steering clear of one particular door which leads into the computer room. Even open a slither it’s enough for others to make gestures in my direction, taking a street mime’s approach to bullying. They would not speak in fear of the librarian’s repercussions. A vain woman with a pixie cut dyed beach blonde, matching thong. She dressed like a woman from the film Funny Face, wore crab apple sized earrings and 80s Barbie accessories. How she became a librarian is anyone’s guess. She had a window mannequin’s desire for attention and possessed the sort of vanity that would lead her to have manicures and pedicures on separate days. Whenever she spoke to me she did so at a distance, with a look of disgust as if she was gaining weight just engaging in conversation with me.

…I’m being called downstairs. I guess that concludes my second entry. By the way thank you for all the lovely comments, I wasn't expecting any response.

At school teachers take a policy of acquiescence. I would transfer schools but it would not solve a social epidemic. The stigma would remain, only the faces would change. I got my name FAT32 at school...

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Fat32