Hey Reader and Friend

Hello! Its Tuesday morning and I woke up with the need of writing about her, because I realized I had been hiding these things. You might not come to realize it but we hide things from ourselves and others. Anyway, yesterday I wrote twice to let her see what is up in my mind. The last post I tried to cram in every single event that involves her since we met and it might read a little confusing and boring.

I just totally forgot what I wanted to write on this one.

Ok, maybe I should try to explain what I realize now that I look back. A part of me wanted to own her, to impose my law on her, to tell her dont do these things, to have her all the time for myself; these emotions are not cool at all! I see now that I was lying to what I believe in; had I not learn from Hegel about the Ubermunschen and about "using" people? Had I not learn about true freedom? Had I not studied and comprehended Buddha's teachings along with Confucius? What had Marx taught me about people? What had been of free will? And Voltaire? Aristotle? Locke? Hume? What about Abd-Ru-Shin and all the other people which we brand as Philosophers? I knew something was wrong because I did not feel free. Why couldnt I feel happy?

I had been trying for the longest time to own her and in doing so I was creating more conflict. I was confusing and people started to notice so. Why was I being so mean to these people who were only there? The "self" wanted to exterminate those in the way of "happiness". This part of me had turned me against my friends, it had made me imagine things that werent real. It was lying to me and I was lying to others. It was hurting me and I was hurting others. Maybe this will help?

I was everything of the self! I was destructive! And here I was! Living for twenty years like this! I was selfish, I did not want to share who I was with others; that was what held me back from being who I was. I was not living like I wanted; it was living how it wanted. I wanted to change! So a day when I felt the lonliest I got on the bike and walked the dog. That day I pedaled as fast as I could, it burnt my legs like crazy but I went past that, I rode the bike without grabbing onto the handle bars going up and down hills! Holy shit! How was I doing this? I wasnt scared of falling off, I would think about losing balance but didnt care! That self was telling me "Dont do it! You will fall!" But I said "Fuck You, I Wont Do What You Tell Me!" Somehow my shirt came off and I was riding with only shorts on and I felt liberated even more! I was no longer self-conscious of my body! That night I wanted to dance and feel free! I had killed a little bit of that which hated, that which was selfish, that which was unhappy. That was one night I had one the battle. Then he showed up again, for a little bit, but I again managed to murder that which was still left. After this, I truly felt "free". And it showed all around.

I was no longer scared of being David. I was freed of what held me back before! One night while watching Apocalypto I found and understood the concept of how much the self had power over a human being! The self was a magnet for negative things. All the negative emotions that destroy our lives were part of him and all of that became part of us!

So you see, the self is the enemy to destroy. I discovered the self and killed it before it killed me and others. With this I realized many other things that I had been doing wrong.
From there on I managed to detach my-self from her. The self no longer hurt me.
I truly had found freedom!
The weeks passed and life had been more enjoyable; it has been better! I find myself doing the things I like, saying the things I think to those I see, I am no longer scared to say what I want and do what I want. Rage Against the Machine was music to my soul as I started this new life. I was what I wanted, I was writing again, I was living now!
And I hadnt talked to her at all! I still had both of her poems; the good and the bad. That day I told her I would leave them in her mailbox and I did! She read them later on that day and  said she loved them. I felt happy that she had liked them and though of no more. I felt free of all negative thought. I lived easily now. I suppose that when I commited suicide my life changed. David was a person people liked now. It was evident that I had found who I was, that I was free, that I was happy. I found myself, how some would say, seducing women around me. I, of course, had not the slightest clue because its not like I was doing it on purpose. Women started to approach me, they became friendlier towards me; more physical. I paid attention to this but thought nothing more than "Its ok". I was happy and it showed.
So you see! Ive come a long way! I look back and realize that we humans are "limitless". This reminds me of a Bruce Lee annecdote.

Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a-half minutes per mile].

So this morning he said to me, “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do give.”

He said,”When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.”

I said, “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.”

So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go anymore so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” – and we’re still running – “if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.”

He said, “Then die.”

It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?”

He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”

There really are no limits if you think about it! Kill your-self and Live!

-I still have to write about Love and Slavery, I know!

On the Subject of Love and Slavery

I remember once, before we got to know each other on a deeper level, she asked me, "Have you ever loved?" That time, I lied, I said I had because I felt stupid saying otherwise because what twenty-year old dude hasnt experienced such great emotion by the time? Time passed on and she slowly let me become part of her life, she shared with me, she confided in me things that others would not have. I did the same, I shared with her all I really had; which was my ideas and thoughts and the short moments of my life in pictures and words. We became really cool and once you invited me to your house for a sleepover numerous amount of times; I was scared shitless. What did she mean a "sleepover"? Thoughts raced through my mind and I ended up postponing the event until you forgot the idea. You began to know me a little more and one night you and I ended up together in a couch with my blanket. I felt super excited! Your perfume captivated me and you were there with me willing to share those moments with me. I felt amazing knowing someone gave a shit about me. We would have these late night talks about getting to know each other and then you confessed you kind of had a crush on me. I felt like a badass that night, to know that someone felt like this about me! But I tried to pull away from caring about you as a person many times, because I was scared; I feared to live and feel.

I somehow managed to find out more things about your life, things you didnt share with me directly. This, I think, is the source of jealousy; to want to have more of a person. In reality, we share with everyone a piece of ourselves, a David is shared with a friend, but only a little bit of David not the entire David. I somehow felt you mine and felt jealous I didnt get that side of you, which you shared with others. This jealousy made me doubt my whole existence; my one true friend and you. I became distant for a while; I wanted to detach myself of the whole thing rather than fix it. I thought I knew of Buddhism and about attaching one self to people and things but I was damn wrong. Somehow, again, I found relief and you where still there wanting to share yourself with me; I accepted. We continued to talk more and one time you told me that you wanted me in your life forever, that you loved me, and asked if I felt weirded out by your declarations. I said I loved you too because you cared about me and I believed in only one thing; love. That I didnt find it weird to be part of your life in a more intimate way. Things seemed really nice so far and one night when you went to watch a meteor shower I confessed my fantasy of being with you, of my fetishes, kinks, and state of sexuality. I began to feel wanted or at least understood and not ridiculed for being how I was. Now, you really knew me or at least a side of me. Eventually I found myself finding more things of you and feeling jealous again. I wanted to own you; I wanted to own a person. What the fuck was I doing?

You invited me to your house for the first time and I was nervous again. What was going to happen? I cant even remember why I went to your place that night! I met your dad and we walked your dog, I was so thirsty I bought myself a pina-colada Sobe that night! I left and nothing but a walk happened. We talked even more about life and about each other for the next few days. More time passed by and you would confide with me your unhappiness; and I my desire to help you, to make you feel happy. Eventually we organized a walk in the forest on a friday night. I was dying of fear, what would I do? What was going to happen? What the fuck! I must confess that night I acquired some "rubbers" (hahaha) because I felt like something would happen. But we walked and talked and I laid on the grass while you sat and look out at the dark and nothing happened. I took you home and felt like a jerk later because I didnt walk you to your house or opened the door for you, stuff like that! I felt stupid for trying to pretend to know what the fuck I was doing. On the way back to your place you heard me speak spanish and later told me I sounded cool speaking spanish and that you liked it. This again gave me hope in myself. But time passed and again I found even more things and I must admit I was angry like a motherfucker.

One evening, you said you were making rice pudding; and I craving for dessert, but mostly wanting to see you asked if I could have some! So, I left and went to your house very excited! I was going to get to spend somet time with you and have rice pudding! But somehow you were busy emptying out your closet and I ended playing video games with your dad the whole time! I came to spend time with you not with your dad! I felt angry and alone I wanted to be with you! So, I left hurt, that night I told you that I felt horrible for you leaving me with your dad. Its not that I dont like your dad or anything but its just that I really wanted to be with you. So I left that night without you and without rice pudding! I felt envious of those who could have you, it wasnt until I felt this pain that I started writing that cheap poetry. Around this time you had stopped talking to me for a while; I dont know why. I at first didnt understand and didnt see it and probably bothered you more than once. I somehow found shelter in writing my pain. It was the poems I read in my literature class which took this loneliness away. I wrote those to share with you how I felt, in a cool way. I only gave you four poems I wrote but in reality I wrote around twenty but didnt see the others coherent and you never got those. I felt so lonely during these times that others would notice. Me! The master of hiding my sad reality, was failing now! I slowly started to realize what I felt for you; it wasnt true love like I used to envision it. It was something else, it hurt and it didnt feel nice at all! Then one of those nights you managed to write to me and tell me that I was the one you needed, that I was the one that listened. I felt loved again, only to find out about other things that made me feel jealous and again your distance. I wrote more and more and thought about you even more. I once even wrote about giving up on you, but I think that renunciation poem spoke more of me giving up on my-self that wanted to own you. That week I talked with my friend about drinking because it was my country's independence; I lied, it was because of you. I had never drinked before in my life EVER! I was doing these things I had, months ago, never saw myself doing because of a realization.

I realized, when you left me for a while, something very important. I came to understand the theory of the "self". I had found the "self", the being which was purely selfish; the being that made me jealous, hateful, and all other bad things. Some say this is the hardest to find and destroy. I had found it and sought to destroy what hurt me. This "self" made me want to hate, to lie, to doubt, to envy, to want to own, to kill; to do all the things that hurt this world. I decided to commit suicide; I was going to kill my-self. And I did so by remembering what I once had learned from Philosophy. I somehow managed to kill that which produced evil in me and I knew it was gone because I felt free. I wanted to dance, I wanted to love and live with no fear of consequences. This was when I decided I shall celebrate the death of what kills humanity; the selfishness was gone. That renunciation poem made me re-evaluate if I was true to myself and it was with it that I managed to kill the self. That night we drank, my friend and his cousin and I felt free. I took my notebook to read to them your poem and they heard my words and pain. I told you my plan to go out and drink with him and celebrate the Independence earlier that week. You said that night "be safe" and we briefly talked about selfless love. That you wished to find someone with a true passionate love like that of the geisha and samurai. Later on that night I wanted to show you how free I was this time; that I had found myself. That I had destroyed that which made me feel embarrassed about myself; that which kept me from doing the things I always wanted to do. So that night we went to the galleria and skated like I had not done so in years! I fell, bruised, and embarrassed myself but I did not care at all. That night, my friend, asked me if I wanted to go to where you were; in that University because there was a lingerie party! I was like FUCK YES! I wanted to see you and celebrate the independence with those I cared about; but it wasnt until the next day, Saturday. So we skated and drank until it was time to go and the night ended with a harsh event. I wrote to you that night and confessed my pain for you; I could tell you this because I no longer felt like this. I wonder what you think when I write to you?

Next day came up and the week passed with no major contact between you and I. Just simple "hellos" and whatnot. Anyways, with this new-found happiness and freedom I wrote the Moon and the Sea. A lot had changed in my life, it was evident in the works. This was happy and calm; not forced. I love this piece, I was calm and happy when I wrote it; I finished it in one evening on note cards. One night I tried to share my happiness with you but I knew something was up; that you did not feel happy. You told me that night that what about you? What about those people? That you were grateful to have me in your life. I realized how blind I had been how selfish I still was. The next day I found out more things about you that made me feel like dying again; I was mad at myself. I thought I had killed that fucker! I thought my jealousy was gone but I guess it wasnt! I still hadnt given you that renunciation poem and I tweaked it a little now with these new emotions. I felt so jealous and angry but I re-read some of the other poems and thoughts I wrote about you that I destroyed later on that day in rage! In there I found traces of the "Self", with this anger towards me I destroyed those thoughts and dependency of the "self". I felt better already. I talked to a fellow thinker and he told me I wasnt the same; I confessed him that it had been for a girl that I had lost my ways. I realized I had changed, that I had lost that passion; not really lost but misplaced it. I grabbed onto some ideas and reality and rose the old flag of rebellion. I found my old ideas and started to care less and truly "kill" the self that was left. I had now truly been freed of that fucker. I have no clue if it will come back one day or not but for today I can say it is gone.

I just realized this is too damn long to start writing about what slavery and love is; I guess I will have to postpone it AGAIN!

Today is Just as Good as Any other Day.

Well I had a really interesting weekend, long story short a friend and I almost got shot! I cant stand seeing people so blind due to hate and other falsehood. Anyways, today I took two history tests to which I half-assed studied because this weekend was just filled with good distractions. I am damn sure that this is what I needed in my life; these people, these feelings, these emotions, the truths, the lies, the good and the bad. I always told HER that it wasn't until she came into my life that I really started to live and experience and it is true. I know there might be lots of people that lie about many things but I consider myself as honest as I can if someone asks me something; I will not lie. I have, for a long time, quit lying.

Anyways, today I decided to wait for HER because I wanted to see her; I wanted to feel this connection we both agree we have. Lately, ive confessed to her my attraction to her and it is honest and sincere. I used to be scared to show how I felt towards her but not anymore, I try to give myself to her with nothing in return.

I constantly have the struggle of wanting more, of wanting to be selfish, of wanting to impose myself on others, of wanting to own others. But I have learned fast that these feelings are not healthy for one and neither are they true love.

Today, we talked for a while, I got to spend some quality time with her.Today I did not fear looking into her eyes I was honest as I could today with her UNTIL the conversation steered into slavery and love. I was caught off guard and the words rushed before they could be said and nothing came out. I promised I would write about the subject and I really hope she reads this and tries to see what I see. This will be long so I will write about the subject tomorrow!

But before going into the subject lets keep talking about this woman. I call her my muse I like to refer to her as the one who opened the pandora box that is my life. Today I got to see her, I got to feel her, I got to talk to her; I got to live with her. I was on laying on the floor because I feel so comfortable around her now, I wanted her to join me on the floor but I guess she didnt want to. I could notice something peculiar about today, I could tell that maybe you didnt feel as beautiful as other days. I could tell you felt a little insecure about yourself, these past few days and today; the theory was reinforced. But understand that I dont ever judge people, especially you. Experience has taught me that when one tries to judge a person by their acts, words, beliefs, and everything else; you try to decipher that person. You dont let that someone live, in the sense that when one makes a judgement upon what he or she sees, the "judged" has now been read and done. That person which you have barely met and confided in has now been "killed" and set aside as another everyday person with no way of appearing as anything else. I dont do that with people, not anymore. I examine people but I do not make final conclusions at all; I see every interaction with that person as a new side of them, not as the same as before. Now where the fuck was I? Oh yes! You!

Today you said you felt "bitchy", you said the world did not feel "right". I wish I could have been of use to maybe tilt your world upright. I wonder what made you feel like this? All the time we talked; me on the floor and you up there eating that "delicious" fruit with cheese, crackers and nuts, I paid close attention to you like none before. I honestly think I noticed every inch of you. I saw your shoes, untied of course, maybe I should have tied them for you? Your jeans, how nicely they hugged your figure. I noticed your keys hanging from the loop of your belt. I noticed when you got up to throw away the empty bowl your shirt went up a little. I noticed your shirt was sky blue, maybe it was tie-dyed? At that moment I thought I would get a glimpse of your piercing but you were quicker than my thought to pull down your hoodie and shirt. I paid attention to your hoodie, why wear a hoodie in such a hot day? Maybe you were trying to cover something up, maybe you felt "cold" there are days when even the hottest sun in the sky will not make us feel warm. All while we talked! Next I noticed your hands, so small and white; your finger nails so nicely done. At times I found myself wanting to hold your hand never had I wanted to hold someone's hand. I noticed your backpack, you looked so "nerdy" with it. I then noticed your face I discovered many new things here. Your chin is somewhat sharp, not really square. You have beautiful lips, so red, so plump and proportionate; your teeth I noticed too, I didnt see your tongue however. Your nose, so proportionate too. Your cheeks, your smile; did you know that when you smile a little dimple on your left appears? You have beautiful skin all around, really. Your make up covered something you have been trying to hide, but not at me. I noticed your cute little scar under your eye, somewhere along the cheek. I again found myself in your green eyes, or are they blue sometimes? I dont know, im color-blind, and I cant tell sometimes. Your eyelashes were greatly done too and that glitter on your eyelids which seemed to melt down to the sides also looked beautiful. Your hair surprised me, I pictured it to be lighter and found it dark red; I like it! You have shorter hair now I think. I dont think I missed anything I can remember. And yet I think you dont feel beautiful. You are! And its not a damn cliche or something of the likes, you really are! I found myself looking into your eyes and I let you see me look into your eyes too. I want you to know you are beautiful and meaningful above all else. Your beauty could eventually fade away but what you are never goes away with time or life. Time passed and we shared ideas and experiences then you said you had to go to class. I was like "fuck! ok" So we walked to class talking about something and all I wanted to do was to have my arm around you but something didnt feel right so I flicked the hood of your hoodie and smiled. We arrived at your class and I hugged the wall to not fall because I wanted to lean on you but you were like five feet apart! We talked a little more before you went in but not before getting hug from you. For a moment I was going to say something while you were in my arms I thought I should get a breath of your scent but I didnt smell that perfume. Why werent you wearing that perfume? Why were you wearing a hoodie? Why was your world not "upright"? Why did the world not feel "right"? I dont know but I would like to know not because im curious but because I wish I could do something to help.

And that was today.

Lets Try this Again!

:)

Today I learned one thing.
Live.
Cry.
Liberate from your-self.

Hoy aprendi algo.
Vive.
Llora.
Liberate de ti mismo.

Hey, Hey, What Can I Do?

Gotta Keep things Going

So here is a very old examination I did of a piece of poetry.


The Hymn of a Fat Woman
The poem by Joyce Huff, “The Hymn of a Fat Woman”, is an interesting poem if examined part by part. The poems six stanzas work together to convey a message that only in that order would work. The first stanza works as an introduction to the story; it makes an interesting observation. The second stanza and the third further develop and support the claim that is stated. The stanzas that follow are used to back up her claim, they further explain her claims. “The Hymn of Fat Woman” is a poem that is loaded with controversy; it is not a simple poem that alludes to many biblical passages. Huff makes the daring claim that fat people; women in particular, break the standard for what we claim to know as normal. What is normal to us is prescribed everyday by not only the media, but also by society which is supported by our religious icons.
“All of the saints starved themselves
Not a single fat one
The words ‘deity’ and ‘diet’ must have come from the same
Latin root.” (Huff lines 1-4.)
The author makes a statement that all saints are always thin. If one actually thinks about it, this statement can be seen as true. The question then becomes, how so? And why is this in any way pertinent to the title? Huff seems to be trying to prove something that is evident in today’s society. Saints are typically the most venerated and respected holy figures right after God. They are figures that represent love and worship, figures of ultimate good. There are no fat saints, as she said; it is as if in order to be a saint a qualification is to be skinny. A bit of humor then instills when she uses the play on words of the words “deity” and “diet”. Ultimately, the goal of this stanza is to set plant the seed of doubt. Huff gets the readers to question “Why really is it that all saints are thin? And if taken the joke seriously, “Really, how similar do those words sound?” In the following stanzas Huff, guides us to think more about the subject of physical complexity and its constant use to represent ultimate good and beauty.
“Those saints must have been thin as knucklebones
or shards of stained
glass or Christ carved
on his cross” (Huff lines 5-8.)
The choice of words such as “thin as knucklebones” brings to the readers mind the image of a skeleton-like individual. Huff, still continues on the observation that all saints coincidentally are all skin and bones. The imagery that is used to describe these saints as shards of stained glass corresponds with the whole “holy” ideal. These saints, the thin-starved saints are all fragments of glass that ultimately correspond to the image of a Christian church; its glass-stained windows. In this church, the symbol of Christ, the cross is the main theme. Christ’s symbol, the cross, is a universal sign for the religion. Huff, again, compares the thinness of the saints to the thin shards of glass as well as the complexity of Christ carved on his cross. This stanza helps the readers visualize and relate to the idea of being thin such as the widely recognized Christ on the cross. Stanza three contains more visual images that appeal to the idea of saints and its physical complexity. “Hard as pew seats/ Brittle as hair shirts” (Huff lines 9-11.) Still, with the image of the church Huff further constructs on the picture of the religious and what it represents. By describing the thin saints as hard as pew seats, one can almost picture these saints entirely made of pew seats. Pew seats are of a material so hard, yet brittle and with a weekly old smell that is almost familiar. Pew seats if you have ever been to a church are very distinct, and are an article of use in a place in which everything is of holy use, the seats are the only things that have no sort of holy value. The brittle hair shirts were shirts made entirely of hair that were made to be worn by people who were in the idea of penitence. These images; the pew seats, the hair shirts are necessary to instill the image of discomfort. This distinct image of discomfort so accessible to the reader, the choice of words lets the readers understand that somehow being thin is something displeasing. Huff then narrows down the subject at examination; women’s role in religion and the norms they must abide to which is written by the scriptures.
“Women made from bone,/like the ribs that protrude from his wasted wooden chest./Women consumed by fervor” (Huff 11-14.) Huff seems to try and explain that women themselves are made from skin and bones. Like a clay model, women have been shaped from the bone that was taken out of Adams rib. Having no other choice but to obey to the shape that they were molded into, women must be seemed normally thin. Religion, now enforces the idea that women must be seen naturally thin; that to be thin is normal. The “ribs that protrude from his wasted wooden chest” which Huff mentions could possibly be the ribs of the Christ carved on the cross. Huff reminds us again that according to Genesis, women are made out of the ribs of man. The cross is for always a constant reminder of what beauty and good is; the physical attribute although sometimes looked over is very influential. Huff, in the last sentence of the third stanza and in the fourth stanza digs deeper into the role of women and faith as well as the physical requirements.
“Women consumed by fervor” is a statement that is surrounded by controversy. She talks about women who are consumed by extreme passion towards Christ. And who hasn’t seen this? They are everywhere, extreme fanatics who take to heart what the scriptures say, women who follow the role of the obedient women. Again, Huff mocks the way that women are trained to live as things and not living beings. They are made to follow the rules that are set by religion and society. In stanza three this same mockery and observation continues.
“They must have been able to walk three or four abreast
down that straight and oh-so-narrow path
They must have slipped with ease through the eye
of the needle, leaving the weighty
camels stranded at the city gate.” (Huff lines 15-19.)
Huff takes on a Biblical story approach to mocking how women might act in those times. She sees those same thin “Crazy” women being able to walk three or maybe even four side by side down a straight narrow path. The path that she seems to be talking about is. She uses the Bible verse of Matthew 19:24, “And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” Huff uses this bible verse to show that these woman, supposedly free of sin and skinny would be able to walk in the city three or four abreast. She makes it seem so easy for these skinny women to walk into the city in which only sin-free people walk in. They would leave the fat camels at the entrance and simply walk in the glamorous city. Within this city only skinny beautiful women would walk around happily. However, Huff being a fat woman herself, feeling like the “odd-apple” she does not see herself amongst the paradise city. In the last two stanzas of this poem she makes her point clear.
Huff continues to use biblical references to make a strong ironic point.
“Within the spare city’s walls
I do not think I would find anyone like me
I imagine I will find my kind outside
lolling in the garden
munching on the apples.” (Huff lines 20-24.)
This city, the “Kingdom of God” is heaven for Christians, this place, Huff argues, would be inaccessible to her kind. Fat folks like her would not be able to pass the gates, being so small as a needle eye, as well as being a place for non-sinners. The sin that is apparently keeping them out is gluttony, and perhaps its not only sins that keep her kind out; it is that they do not meet the requirements. Inside the city there is only thin individuals, it seems that Huff tries to argue that these “saints”, some not sin-free, are capable of accessing the city because of their physique. Ultimately, not being thin, is the biggest sin that fat people have; therefore they cannot and will never gain saint-hood. Her kind would in fact do more sinning in the eyes of the religious. Her kind would be in the Garden of Eden and survive from the original sin; eating from the forbidden tree. Huff seems to laugh and defy the religions principles and rules; she no longer cares about such ridiculous ideas that ostracize her. She would much rather live happily and sinfully than die a hypocrite and unhappy. Huff’s poem at the end, is purely combative, she will not take any more of the rules and with her observations she proves so.
But her observations are far more than simple observations; they are truths that transcend into our society. What Huff is trying to make clear to the readers is that what we are doing is wrong. We have permitted religion to dominate and mandate our everyday lives, religion has gone so far as to telling us what beauty is. The images of what is holy, i.e. the saints, are our model of good along with the image of Christ on the cross. Religion, in this case Christianity is used to dominate lives. In Christianity the roles of women are clearly outlined, they must obey and conform. If they do not conform they are sinners and will face the consequences. To be fat is to be sinful. Huff points out these examples of how Christianity intrudes into our own personal life. Saints and Christ are made to look thin and beautiful only to make us feel different. We must look like them if we want to be “Saved” too; we must starve and be crucified in order to be saved. Fat people are the epitome of evil and sin; they are the exact opposite of what it is to be holy. The Hymn of a Fat Woman is the cry of a woman who no longer lets herself be classified as “Evil” by society or religion. Huff decided that her people, the fat, needed a hymn, an ode to their being. Because, if for being physically wrong means being morally and entirely wrong; then so be it, for there many of them. They will not be in the city; they will be enjoying themselves in the garden devouring all the food that is available. Huff creates a strong poem that makes the bells go off in the church. She starts with a serious claim, the follows it with a little humor to catch the audience. Then she goes on to describe the saints and Christ’s appearance, which then extends to the church setting. She pokes fun of those women who follow the norms of the church and society. Excludes herself from the herd to make her own species; a guilt-free happy pack. In overall, Huff’s poem is more than a poem; it is a Hymn like she titles it; a flag that is used to wave the freedom that is involved with her physique. For they, the fat ones, although not appealing to the standard are free of sin and have now cast the first stone.