True story of a formative encounter of mine about ten years ago.
>be me, scrawny, 135 lbs, only just an adult, shaved head
>living in the outskirts of Tokyo, working as a dishwasher, occasionally modelling
>poor, very poor
>often don't eat dinner.
>a boring weekend strolling around
>incredibly hot summer, over 100 degrees
>it doesn't bother me, I'm used to it
>down a side street I see something I'm not used to
>the archetypal young Japanese woman, petite, well kept, beautiful
>hand in hand with someone that stops my breathing and gets my heart beating
>huge, massive, fat, obese
>a near 500 lbs of white, American man, lumbering, labouring, just carrying his body down the street
>black t shirt pulled taught, belly visibly swinging with each step
>huffing, wheezing, sweat dripping
>slowly slowly they proceed down the street
>i'm stuck, deer in fat headlights
>i need to see
>pretend to fiddle around, phone has one eye
>the wonderful couple has another
>gradually puffing their way to a car
>she gracefully hopping into, driver
>he lumbering around, passenger
>lowering himself down the car plummets with him
>i am transfixed as the car drives off
>mind suddenly flooded with ideas
>need to become obese
>need to be 500 lbs
>at least, right now
>need a doting woman enabling my every whim
>need to be lazy, satiated, a gluttonous slob
>planted to the couch, gaming, eating, devouring, endlessly consuming
>days filled, nothing but modern convenience
>her feeding, cooking, doting, fucking
>heaving my belly to one side, her mouth pushing past my thigh rolls, my mouth endlessly gorging...
I have never wanted to be anyone more than I have wanted to be him. I have never stopped thinking about that couple in the outskirts of Tokyo.