Not sure exactly why I would pick this back up. I haven't weighed myself outside of medical appointments in years.

Let's just say I'm on a quest to survive the next 20 years, although my body might have some other plans.

Gym visits have become more frequent. With the weather starting to move into something more resembling spring (but for how long?) I can talk walks during the day again.

Hopefully this will get better.

Last year around this time I was 235. Last check in with a doctor, I was 212.

That's significant, but I figure I have at least 15-20 more pounds to lose. Although I keep saying it isn't the number, it's the form that number takes. I'm not so worried about how much I weigh as I am my overall health. If I weighed 220 and looked like Matt Milano, I'd be ok with that. I'm not going to get there, so I figure in good shape, 190-200 is probably a reasonable target.

I want to start writing again, too. I wrote a lot of poetry at a time when I was struggling through life changes, and the subsequent changes in emotion that come with them. I was traveling a lot, and had a lot of time alone to unwind my thoughts. I had a posse of friends around me that inspired me to open up more, be vulnerable, and write without regard to what others might have thought about it.

Although I cared greatly about the opinions a few of them had about my writing.

I'm again going through some changes. Certainly much different changes this time, but regardless, changes that cause a lot of thought, emotions, and struggles with accepting what is becoming my new normal. I don't have a posse of friends anymore. I feel like I barely have any, at least not many that I talk to regularly. And certainly none that I can have to deep, vulnerable conversations with. There is little inspiration to really try and put myself into words anymore.

But here I am. Like the feeling of futility when I go the gym most days, writing will become an exercise testing my strength, and endurance.

I took a walk yesterday and today. It was good to get back out into the air without wanting to rush inside again. Without it stinging the skin, and lungs. Without it causing my nose to run out of control. There's a path behind the office where I work the majority of my days which offers a nice area for a quick midday walk. It's nature, of sorts. At least there are trees between the railway activity, the adjacent houses and the fence that lines the entire path to keep people from going onto the rail tracks and getting hurt.

You can also see these on my alternate instagram, @monochrome_revolution

They say our world is becoming more monochrome. This is obviously true. From a design and cultural perspective, it's a bit sad we don't choose to fill our lives with color for fear of it being offensive, or unappealing to someone. For fear of it ruining the resale value of what we have. But in art, I believe straight monochrome gives us a different way of looking at things that normally would be colored in our vision. A way of separating out the details using light and shadows.

After all, it is easier to turn color to monochrome than create color from where there is no color. Even in an increasingly monochrome world.