How much I ate today.

What I should have eaten today.

How I feel right now.

.

I have 24 books to read in seven days. They're about physics and mathematics and inventions gone wrong and the food industry and people at sea and capitalism. I will read and not eat, like I did in February.

.

Let's take it up a notch.

jello for brains

I cannot wait for college. Why? My brain does not live on food, or fat, or whatever it is that it's supposed to need: it lives on what I learn. And even if, during the summer, I can read a book a day, easily, it's not enough. My brain is turning to jello and I can't take it! I am not craving brownies or bread or pasta, I am craving mathematics and physics and chemistry and litterature and this silly class on the influence of the media in politics that I picked at random. When I am at school, I am a student. I am also a girl, a teenager, a friend, a lunatic, but mainly I am a student. And loving what you are is nice for a change, isn't it?

This is one of the reasons why I want to become a surgeon. I love school, I love learning, I love challenges. I guess I'm okay at it too, not the best in any of my classes, but definitely over average. I want to study for years and years, and then have a job that keeps me insanely busy and on the brink of exhaustion. Until I want to have a life of some sort. If I still even have friends by then!

Oh and, incidentally, I believe I have fallen in love with the wrong person again. Ha. I wish it was only incidental. Gah. It's terrible.

It's about being thin again. It's about the lack of food and sleep and dreams. If I always run on a deficit there's no time to be crazy. No energy. Is this really what I want?

there's a reason she's called apple

I don't know if I have a fever, or if I'm having some sort of anxiety attack, but tonight I am jittery beyond anything I've ever known. I'm tearing at my hair, at my skin, at my lips; my eyes dart to shiny objects, sharp corners, frightening heights. I need to hurt something. Anything. Does anyone know how to make it stop? I listen to Fiona Apple so I can learn to word my insanity, but it has no words, which is why it's impossible to stop. Am I crazy? The anxiety is crawling in and I have no where to hide, no one to turn to... Oh please oh please make it stop I don't know what to do anymore even the music won't help even the writing won't help maybe if I hit my head against the wall? I can't stand it, the jitterness, the jumping, the inner screaming, the vertigo, oh the overwhelming vertigo, it's everywhere in every bone and every joint to the point where it hurts and my head feels like it's going to explode. It's the pressure point of my body and the only thing holding me together but all I can think of is how great it would feel to drill a hole into my skull and remove of all the darkness, the dark matter, it's pushing at my insides, at the seams of my mind, and it's oh so tattered and I don't know how long it will hold. This is insane. This isn't even about being thin anymore. Or beautiful. Or even normal. It's about surviving, it's about stopping the pain and the FEAR. I'm so scared oh what is happening to me, but even more so of what will happen next, it can only get worst, it always does. It gets worse and worse every year and every day and I don't know how to put an end to it. HA. That is a lie. I know many many ways to put an end to it. But I'm hoping I won't resort to such drastic measures, will I? Am I even hoping? I just don't care anymore, I'll do anything for the pain to stop, for the fear to cease, I don't even know where one ends and the other begins, they're just this huge entity that's devouring my soul and I don't think I will sleep tonight

help me save me make it stop
i'm alone

have you ever

Have you ever thought the sky was a black cloth, and the stars were holes? That the light from the stars came from beyond this cloth, beyond the holes, from a different place, something larger? Have you ever thought the stars were windows giving on another world?

Have you ever wished to disappear? Have you ever thought about what it meant to exist? If no one knows I'm alive, if I am part of nobody's conscience, do I exist? Can I be conscious of the world without it being conscious of me?

Have you ever found yourself unable to accept that you existed? Have you ever realized that you would keep fighting, if for no more reason than not understanding it? Have you ever noticed how existence is larger than life, and that dying is not disappearing? Because of conscience.

Have you ever seen that you do not belong anywhere? That you are ageless, yet always too young or too old? That you are both unique and ordinary, like nothing else and just like everybody? Have you ever noticed that your thoughts have become like a book, and that they have cut you off from what you used to think was life, society?

Have you ever gazed at the stars and wondered what could be found beyond them? Have you ever wished you could be there, instead of here, instead of now? Have you ever been unsatisfied by time and space? Have you ever wondered how they could determine who was insane?

I have.

just to prove I'm still alive

And reading every one of your words. Mine are too tangled up to make any sense.


I know I'm basically INVITING hainous anonymous comments on my hugeness. But now you know I exist. Which you probably wish you didn't know now. HA. Weak attempt at humour. Gotta love 'em.

apologies

I know my posts haven't been very interesting lately, nor did they contain any information at all. I'm stuck in a rut, and I'm not quite sure what to do about it. Lately, my days mostly consist of reliving the past, both the good and the bad times (mostly the bad). It's completely useless, mostly depressing, and it's making me restless with grief... What I wanted to say, is I'm trying to move on, I'm working on it, and I'm sorry if I don't comment or post as much any more. I still love you all, and read all of your posts, religiously. And I will be back to my former self, soon.

This isn't a good-bye or anything, I will still post. I just wanted to make all of this clear.

Food-wise, well, I haven't been focusing on food too much lately. Mostly on self-loathing. Yech.

But I don't loathe you, haha!

self-deprecation, or the proper use of synonyms

I am not fat, I am abdominous, paunchy, pot-bellied, blubbery, chubby, embonpoint, plump, buxom, zaftig, zoftig, corpulent, obese, weighty, rotund, double-chinned, jowly, loose-jowled, dumpy, podgy, pudgy, tubby, roly-poly, fattish, fleshy, heavy, overweight, gross, porcine, portly, stout. Adipose, buttery, greasy, oily, sebaceous, oleaginous, suety, superfatted.

I am not worthless, I am chaffy, good-for-nothing, good-for-naught, meritless, no-account, no-count, no-good, sorry, manky, negligible, paltry, trifling, nugatory, otiose, pointless, purposeless, senseless, superfluous, waste, drubbishy, trashy, valueless.

I am not cruel, I am barbarous, brutal, fell, roughshod, savage, vicious.

I am not unhappy, I am lovesick, miserable, suffering, wretched, dejected, discontented, discontent, dysphoric, distressed, infelicitous, joyless, sad, sorrowful, depressing, cheerless, uncheerful.

I am not polite, I am a liar.

I am not realistic, but I am sincere. I am no longer passive, I am static.

Get me out of here.

" I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true. " - Dorothy Parker