The trouble with hot weather like this: it forces me to go out without my jumper.

I feel naked without a jumper.

Joking aside, psychologically, I feel they mask my misshaped body, of which I am so self-conscious.

Though my arms are no longer the matchsticks they were, my torso remains the face of a hippo, my shoulders forever slouched.

But such is my nature: I prefer to mask my reality, than attempt to change it. If only I had the constancy and resolve to make things better.

I fear I shall always be Jumper Boy.

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