THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD
Brooklyn Lyceum, May 2012
FEATURING: Ronan Babbitt, Tom Pecinka & Amir Wachterman
DESIGN BY: Chris Barlow
We made a piece exploring body image through the lens of the movie First Wives Club. No. You DON'T own me, body hate. NO. You don't.
Have you ever run your fingers along the pages of a brand new magazine? I like to feel the smooth, perfect pages…not a dent. I trace my finger along the lips, eyes, mouth, nose…of each beautiful woman. Loreal. Chanel. GAP. CVS. If I could dive into the pages and live there, I would. And I would never look back.
I just got back from GNC. I spent a lot on protein shakes. Tryin’ ta bulk up, ya know? (Small laugh). My brothers and I are going skiing with my Dad. Don’t wanna get let behind on the slopes. It’s not all bad, really. I just sometimes wish I could be like them. That would be a hoot.
I dream. I dream of seeing my toes. Just for one blissful second. To look down and see. Nails. Feet. Ground. But I am not this man. And as the food slides down my throat, I float further away from him—this man who can see his toes.
Sometimes I know that no matter what I eat, I will never be full. I will never be…filled. So why even bother?
I’ll never pass the presidential fitness test, I think while laying awake at night—pretending I can’t remember that there is box of twinkies under my bed…two boxes.
I imagine that I could grow so tall, so impossibly tall, that everyone would look up and think “what is blocking the sun” and that thing would be…me.
Sometimes I push my food around my plate and spell my name. The peas say “Tom” the mashed potatoes-- “Tom”, the ground beef, “Tom”. And with the gravy I write it in cursive.
I broke a chair once in the third grade. I told everyone tt was broken before. But I know the truth. I broke that chair. With the weight of the world. My weight. My world.