I do not believe that I could ever be a nudist simply because it would be exhausting to pretend I wasn’t looking at other people’s private parts–similar to attempting to be interested in a boring person, proclaiming that all my children’s early drawings were fantastic, struggling to stay awake during a boring speech or finding a way to avoid telling someone I love that I’m a mere mortal and therefore incapable of offering the gift unconditionally.
Being naked is never a good thing because those who feel they look good without clothing are either deceived or ridiculously attractive.
I am neither. I am fat.
I have no memory of ever standing and looking down and seeing my genitalia.
Not only is that a great comedy line, but actually ends up being true. Now, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have such an apparatus; it just means that it’s not readily available for me to peruse.
So the times in my life that I’ve found myself baring my body have only occurred through hours, days, weeks and months … of first baring my soul.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix
Mr. Kringle’s Tales … 26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

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