Author: goodimpressionofmyself

bull-in-progress:

Local boy too unfocused to stick to a hobby, dabbles between wanting to be an artist, activist and bodybuilder; can’t concretize a reality that includes all three.

It’s hella hard! But fuck it. I wanna be a jacked jack of all trades.

Here’s a wonky flex cuz why not.

that’s something i struggled with for a long time myself, bro. not only is it easy to stereotype weightlifters as being just these dumbfuck meatheads, the simple truth of the matter is that it’s actively enjoyable to do so. whether its pushing the fantasy of sculpting yourself into an object for the pleasure of other men, or otherwise degenerating into a near ape-like mountain of swollen muscle, the pose contains an unmistakable allure of placid, near-animalistic swagger.

as empowering as that paradoxical need for self-negation may be, the narrative behind it doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. being a committed weightlifter takes intense drive, dedication and a flexible, scientific mindset. there’s something straight-up nerdish about calculating macros, and researching the effectiveness of different supplements and training methods. it feeds right into chemistry and the biological sciences… hell even physics if you want to get into force and energy and what’s going on with the exertion of the weight on your muscles.

so much of how we learn and think is made up of simplified narratives designed to regulate the excess of information we receive from the world around us. it’s foreign, maybe even radical, to consider the vast interconnectedness of everything; how our every thought and action has been shaped by, and in turn continues to shape, the incomprehensibly vast interplay of structures and systems around us. media. society. school. sexuality. the evolutionary processes that shaped our animal bodies. we are constantly being pressured by incompatible variables, and so constantly impose limitations on ourselves, not only to label and delineate our identities for the ease of others, but to make some sense of the suppurating chaos within ourselves. 

but how true are these limitations, really? just as being a musclehead has an unavoidable scientific dimension, is it so strange to be an artist and a bodybuilder? you often hear muscle brahs talk about mirin and aesthetics, so they obviously have the capacity to appreciate beauty, albeit one supposedly limited to the male form. but why stop there? who says we have to? if you can appreciate anatomy, which isn’t only muscles, but also our skeletal and organ structures, why not appreciate nature? why not appreciate the things man builds with his body, from artwork to architecture to industrial design? hell, isn’t deconstructing the context in which we make decisions, to make better, more honest decisions, as i’ve just done, not the aim of the activistic mode of thinking?

to quote whitman, poet, nature-lover and fellow admirer of the male body, i contain multitudes. so do we all, bros. let’s not deny ourselves any longer.

p.s. you’re jacked as shit, bro. be proud of where you are right now. i’m totally looking up to you as i continue my own transformation into a muscle bull

bettertest:

Weigh them, check their bodyfat levels, and take their measurements.

free range bulls about to be processed