Fat Ass

All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat I would be happier. I wouldn't have to wear shirts hanging outta my jeans all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. I should start jogging again. Five kilometres a day. Really push my bum to do it. Maybe 350 crunches a day aka Britney Spears. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a soulmate. I need to read more and prove myself that I write readable stuff. What if I learned singing or something, or took up an instrument. But can I just begin by writing my own book…my deepest fear still remains the same---what to write and who will read. I don't want to cram in sex or guns or car chases or characters learning profound life lessons or growing or coming to like each other or overcoming obstacles to succeed in the end. Are my thoughts even valid?? Will anyone ever ponder upon them ??...When at times like today nothing happens in the world? Am I out of my fucking mind? People are murdered every day. There's genocide, war, corruption. Every fucking day, somewhere in the world, somebody sacrifices his life to save someone else. Every fucking day, someone, somewhere makes a conscious decision to destroy someone else. People find love, people lose it….Will anyone have the time and inclination to read my book. Now as I ponder upon this debatable topic, my ass is happily getting fatter!