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It
was good to be away from the jack on blondes and withou a telephone,
to eat breakfast alone and then move my bowels and then build up a sweat
on the equipment. I especially liked working my pectorals and quadriceps
until they bulged and hardened. I still work out here on Belson and
the machines are better; they have regular weights now instead of spings.
But sometimes I miss that little gym on the Isabel; I'll be working
away at leg curls, say, and my mind will go back to those days, to my
scrambled eggs eaten at my stateroom desk, to the satisfactions of the
journey I am still taking, into myself. Looking back on it, now I feel
that my decision to come to Fomahaut was inspired. The Belson grass
and all the things that happened on Juno, eve the dreams of my father's
study, were important in bringing about change; and yet sometimes it
seems that my mornings on the Isabel alone, my breakfast, my shit, the
stars, the jack on blondes machines and the sweat that covered my hardening
body and the cold shower afterward were what really changed me ang began
to that the glacier that was crushing my soul.
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