Fettuccine and salmon

Did you make those noodles or buy them?

Friend, you're new around here, aren't you?

You know, I have enough noodles stored here and there but they are not hearty, rather, they're dehydrated.

And I have more regular western noodles in another bin but I'm too tired to photograph them. 

But I don't want those right now. 

The black blob is a pile of pepper.

Hard roughly-milled semolina from durum wheat. 

White flour to correct for dryness.

The salmon is started skin side down. It cooks quite awhile before the skin finally browns and pink meat cooks. The non-skin side cooks much faster. 

While the second half cooks the ingredients for the sauce are added.

* garlic

* ginger

* chile flakes

* sugar

* rice vinegar

* 3 tablespoons soy sauce

Each noodle is long. Longer than you can buy. Even if you buy novelty noodles that are sold for their unique lengths from barrels in packages standing straight up and they come nearly to your shoulder. These are longer than those. There are only like fifteen noodles in the whole thing. 

And I could eat only half of this pile. 

Like seven very long noodles. 

I just now had an urgent freakout bathroom emergency. 

I lost the race.

Cleanup required another shower.  

I weighed myself for the first time in months. 

I am 162 Lbs, down from 185 Lbs., so that's what, 23 lbs. 

I'll start freaking out 17 Lbs from now. 

145 Lbs. was my homeostasis weight before the kidney thing messed me up. That was to age sixty-two through endless jibbing from each member of my family who were all thin as rails but who all turned quite heavy. They knew it would happen to me but they did not know it would take kidney failure to do it. From their point of view it's all natural. One way or another you get fat. That is the natural you.

It gets freaky.

When I examine my body in various aspects I also automatically compare with the last time I did this. I imagine that comparison very well. It's as if my previous self is right here, we're comparing together. And then that comparison expands to all the previous times that I did this so that several versions of me exist at the same time comparing our self-examinations. I see my nineteen year old self right here doing this same thing. He's showing me his pelvic bones and telling me they stick out like a cow. I show him my belly grown past that with those pelvic bones covered with a layer of fat. He is amazed that he can grow fat. He's never even seen it before. 

Now think. Was there a time when I was nineteen years old that I thought of myself being sixty years old and a lot fatter? Do I recall my younger self seeing my older self showing my younger self his fat? 

Yes, I do. 

I spaz out like that all the time. And right there is my circle. I did that outside of time. It was a little bit big back then and it's a little bit big right now with nothing in between ages nineteen and sixty-two. And here it is all lined up in time. And then you can say, "Well, you actually did both those thinky-things. So what." 

And I go, "Shit. I did." 

That's how the magic is taken from everything. When you are tuned so magnificently to the material world and to time. Everything sorted tidily. Everything explained within the limitations of material existence. I know what happed to me because I saw myself and talked to myself outside of time, [oddly, both times] with insights going both ways but you will explain what I experienced within the constrictions of the material world and along time. 

Anything that doesn't fit is simply dismissed. 

It's not even held in a file: "Things that shouldn't have happened." It's simply forgotten. So when the second part of such a 43-year circle occurs there is nothing there to match it with and it too is dismissed. Both mind-drift things are dismissed. 

I just now saw my nineteen year old self with his pelvic bones sticking up like a cow. Now that shit is funny. And he saw twenty pounds of fat slathered on his body and he freaked out like that can't even be possible. 

Oddly, our arms, wrists and hands are the same. We both can grab our wrists and touch thumb to fingertip. Our hands can be bracelets that close. And that tells me the Indian bracelets he bought will fit me now.