007

Sort of good news. Yesterday morning I weighed 72 kilos even. Today I weigh 70.5 kilos. I weighed in the morning yesterday, after I peed and before I ate. SO I think it’s accurate. Either way, this is my true weight I think. At least I’m not as huge as I thought I was. I’m going by kilos until I get to 60 kilos because I can’t stand to see the big numbers on the scale. This eases my anxiety a little. Weird thing is that I ate a good amount yesterday. I don’t know. Whatever. I’m not eating today, because I’ve given up on being relaxed and at peace. That’s all I wanted from food, right? But once it’s over, I just feel full of chaos. So no more food until I’m in the low 140’s. I look decent then.

We had a delay this morning so I slept in a little and then danced a little bit. Then the stupid sensor bar for the Wii ran out of juice and I had to stop because I’m too lazy to go and grab some new batteries. I don’t have much to say because it’s still morning and nothing’s happened yet. I was going to have coffee but I think I’ll wait until I’ve fasted for a day and I actually need it. Hopefully today works out… I’ll write more later.

Thing(s) I'll get when I'm thin:

This boy, in my bed.

This dress, and ones similar.

Decided to eat today.

Breakfast: Orange-62 cals.
Lunch: Apple-80 cals

And when I get home I'll have soup for dinner.

006

I want to cut. I would really just like to take a razor and slit my wrist down to the bone. I want to feel nothingness. I yearn for sleep, and hate waking up. If death is like dreaming, I wish I would die. So that I may dream forever. Dream a happy life in which everything goes right for me. I don’t know why I bother living anymore. Really I don’t. My future looks tremendously bleak. Nothing to look forward to, only things to dread. The death of loved ones, the pain and agony of growing old. Nothing good. The “best days of my life” are over. Gone. Wasted, but hiding away in this room, shoving greasy foods down my throat and adding on the pounds. Pushing people away, weirding people out. It’s kind of what I do. Crying in the dark. Cutting, never deep enough. Only scratches that bleed a little. They scab. But nothing more. The easy times are over and I really just don’t want to live anymore. At all. I just really don’t. I’d like to kill myself, and stay this way forever. Never knowing the disappointment of adulthood. Why does anyone bother, I don’t get it. There is no point. Maybe I’m just not ready to grow up, but I would rather die right now that become an adult, and see my parents die. The only people who have to love me. Everyone else can pass you along, lie, cheat. Parents are really the only ones who truly have your good at heart. After them, there’s no one. No one but yourself. And then your truly alone in the world. It would have been much easier to be an orphan, strung along from family to family, never becoming attached to any of them. It’d be easier.

I want someone to hit me. To tell me I’m worthless. To tell me what a worthless piece of shit I am. I think if someone told me, each and every day, how fat I am, I would lose weight. If someone told me what they really think of me each morning, I would be thin. I would be pretty. And my life would be easier. My chest wouldn’t feel so heavy. I wouldn’t cry all the time. If someone t this damn house gave me a hug every once and a while, I might be a little happier as well. I only get those twice a month, when I go to my moms. I should never have left her. I should never have left the people who hug me like they are actually excited to see me, who kiss my cheeks and squeeze me and tell me they love me. I don’t get that here. Maybe because my dad doesn’t want his new bitch to be jealous. That’s the only thing I’ll be glad about; being away from that bitch. I won’t have to see her face each day, and that in and of itself is uplifting. I’m kind of glad my parents got divorced; it means I’ll always have an escape. When I’m feeling suffocated, I can go to my dad. If I’m feeling lonely and ignored/hated, go to my mom’s. I just hate that she’s alone in that big house. It breaks my heart, because it’s my fault. All my fault. I wish I was with her. I really do. I want to lay in bed with her rubbing my back and singing to me or reading me a story. I want her to make me tea when I’m sick and actually give a damn when I feel like shit. I feel like I missed out, because I didn’t have a mom in the years that I needed on the most. I know I’ll regret it later in life. I regret it now. I just wish I could make it up to her. I want to take a year off before college and live with her. Take care of her. Become close with her again. Like back when it was just me and her. I deserved to be alone in life, because I made her be alone. I made her be alone, so I deserve to be alone too. I should have stayed with her despite what I wanted. I could have been happier there. Less drama. Would have been the smartest one there. I would have had my damn mom. Sad. I’m just really sad. All the time. Because I have no friends, I’m probably going to spend all summer with my mom. My dad will be pissed, as despite whether he wants to admit it or not, he’ll miss me being here. I want to kill myself. I really want to die.

005

I feel like a failure. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to pass Pre-Calculus, and I need that class to graduate. So… either I ace the fucking final or I’m coming back next year. I’m so scared. I’ve been binging nonstop for the last three weeks. I could be in the 130’s by now, but I’m not. I think I’m around 160 but I’m too scared to weigh myself and see. I wouldn’t doubt it. Not like that’s made me change my eating habits, I’m still eating everything in sight. I keep burping and stuff all the time and it’s really gross. I’m truly a fat ass now. Lucky me. After I write this I think I’ll get up and work out for an hour or so. And I’ll start a week long fast tomorrow. Hopefully it lasts. I’m kind of numb right now; walking through life without any emotion or thoughts. I don’t particularly care about anything, I just want to die. But I’m not sad. I’m just empty and I’d like to fall into a pit of nothingness and die. Since I’m at a lack of things to write about, I’ll say how I hope the next month will go. Day for day. Because I have nothing else to do and no one reads this anyway.

On the 22^nd I will start my fast and it will be a successful day. I would study for my finals coming up and read some more of Game of Thrones. I would exercise for at least a half hour and someone I haven’t talked to in a while would text me. On Thursday we would have a two-hour delay (pssh, I wish), and I would wake up early still and work out. My makeup would look really nice that day. Friday I would continue fasting and go hang out with my friend C and maybe L. And we might smoke weed or something but I wouldn’t eat still and we’d have fun. Because I haven’t had fun in a while. I love C, really I do. And I love L. Sometimes I feel like they just hang out with me because they need someone to make fun of. Like the fat ugly nerdy friend. I feel like they don’t really like me. But then they do stuff that makes it seem like they really do like being around me, and I just don’t understand. I can’t understand why anyone would want to be friends with me. Anyway, since L’s boyfriend might not be coming up this weekend, I’ll probably stay at her house on Saturday (maybe Friday too?) and we’ll smoke and I won’t eat and we’ll have nice chats and sit on her roof like we did in the summer. And maybe D and C can come over too. They don’t really hang out that much though. Sunday I’ll get picked up from L’s and get ready for the new trimester. Clean out my bookbag and stuff. I’ll read a lot and won’t eat. Monday, hopefully he-who-must-not-be-named won’t be in any of my classes. I would kill myself. I can’t be in a class with him. I just can’t. It’s bad enough that his gf is in two of my classes. I’ll have to hear about him so much… ugh. Once I’m in the 130’s I’ll eat 500 calories a day and work out 30 minutes everyday. Next trimester I’ll manage my time much better. Go home, do homework, work out for a half hour at least, eat dinner and drink some tea, take a shower, read ASOIAF, write a little bit of my Guna fanfiction, study anything, get things ready for the next day. I feel like my life would be so much easier if I was thin… and I think it would. I would be in a better mood, have more energy. I just need to keep my head. Highschool drama matters not anymore, just focus on the big picture. I have twelve weeks and three months to get to 110 pounds. I can do it, I think. If I just start and don’t stop. It’s not like I have to fast forever, just until I’m in the 130’s or close to it. It would be so simple. No food. No food. Be thin. Maybe I’ll get a boyfriend. Maybe he’ll actually be cute. I just want to be happy. To have someone that likes me just as much as I like them, who doesn’t worry about being a little creepy and will call me to say goodmorning and ask me how my day was. I just want someone to care about me, just a little. That’s all I can really hope for, I guess.

I don’t think I’ll work out today, I’ll just go to sleep early.

Thing I'll get when I'm thin:

004

Fast day two successful. Totally demolished some food in a plastic bag.

Anyone reading, please disregard this post.

Me and J have a lot of history. I mean, if you consider liking someone pathetically for almost three years to be history. It started out with him liking me. Back then I thought I was the shit. I was at my lowest weight, 132. Guys liked me. Guys totally out of my league. Along came J, not universally attractive, but as sweet as can be. Funny. And someone who I could actually hold a decent conversation with. I could talk to him from the time I woke up until I went to sleep at midnight. But I was in complete denial and didn’t want to like him. I told my cousins about him, but they never saw a picture. I remember the way I had described him to them… it made him sound like the greatest guy on the planet.  He told me he loved me (in Sophomore talk, that just means you like someone a lot). And I acted like I was hot shit, like I didn’t care. I wouldn’t say that I loved him back. I was such a bitch to him, but he kept trying for so long. He became my best friend.  Then my old best friend from middle school came back, and we became best friends again right away. She forced me to tell him I didn’t like him, and that I liked someone else. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had broken his heart. Torn it into a million fucking pieces. That summer, he wouldn’t speak a word to me. I texted him over and over and over again, but I never got a word back. Actually, he texted me back once. In the middle of the summer. I texted him, after running through the rain. For some reason that had made me think of him. I told him I missed him, and all he said was that he missed me too. And then nothing. I remember crying my eyes out in the car. The next year I had to pretty much grovel at his feet for him to even talk to me again, and as a reward he called me a “stalker” I was pissed. And acted like I hated him. I tried to forget, but I couldn’t. Then we had a class together, became close again, and we got married on facebook. Which, sure, it doesn’t really mean much but it meant a lot to me. He called my wifey for almost a year. Then I was an idiot and took it off of my Facebook. He kept it on, until he realized I had divorced him. He always jokes about it, saying I’m mean and stuff, but I can tell it upset him. I told him I would send him another marriage request, but seriously… I was so nervous. I just couldn’t. And after him calling me a stalker and shit, I just… didn’t want to. Anyway, this summer he actually talked to me, and we talked kind of a lot. I was away the whole time, but he had wanted to hang out with me. When school started again, we hung out. Once. It was like a date. But I hadn’t thought of it as a date. I mean, we got ice cream and he paid. He played me a song on the piano. I fell in love that day. We went to his house and I met his sister. His niece is adorable. We went in his room, and there was this moment when he was going to kiss me. He had stuck his hands under my sweater and ran his hands over my back and hugged me. And we would have kissed, but his sister came up the stairs and walked by. So we didn’t. Then he brought me home. I regret everyday that I didn’t just fucking kiss him. A few weeks later of him NOT talking to me AGAIN, we had were watching this movie at school in this class we have once a week. He held my hand. The next time, he held my hand. Same thing again. And then it stopped. You have no clue how good it felt to hold his hand. It had never felt like that with anyone else. He would run his fingers over my palm and… ugh. It was just fucking heavenly. But he won’t do it anymore. Anyway, for like a month I didn’t speak to him at all. Then today it changed. Yesterday I had seen him talking and smiling with the girl I hate the most in this fucking world and it pissed me off. I told everyone, naturally. Acted like I was grossed out, saying how gross they are. Yeah, whatever. No one would understand, anyway. Well today in that weekly class, he talked to me. We talked a lot about our past… well we were telling this one kid about it. Just that we used to be married on facebook and everything, and we acted like we were married in school. Because the kid had said that we act like an old married couple. I called J mean, and he called me mean. And it should have been all good fun, but I could tell that we were both thinking about something deeper. We had both hurt each other, over and over again. He said that he would have accepted my marriage thing if I had sent it. Then he said I never text him anymore, which I don’t. Because I’m so used to him just not answering. I don’t know if I should take that as him wanting me to text him or what…  I want to text him, really I do. It’s just that I don’t know what to say. I’m better at talking to him in person. Over text I can’t tell what he’s feeling, if he’s just joking. It drives me mad. The majority of our interaction revolves around facial expressions and making fun of each other, and you can’t really do that over text. Which is why we need to hang out. I miss him.  I miss us talking until midnight and I wish he wasn’t such a prick and would just text me first because I never know what to say to him. All I want to do is talk to him about the past, about how sorry I am for breaking his heart…. It was almost the end of class, so I stood up. He stood up too. I forget what was said… oh yeah, he was flexing because he was trying to act like a guy off Jersey Shore. Then out of nowhere he just fucking hugged me. Wrapped his big ass arms (didn’t notice how buff he was until today) around me and hugged me. So I hugged him back. And oh my god, I forgot where I was. It was like everything had gone right in the world, and I was just perfectly happy. Any sad thought left my mind. All was well. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. And we just hugged for a ridiculously long amount of time. I realized that I’m fucking in love. Then when it was time to leave class he went, “See, B’s mean, she didn’t wait for me.” So I went back. And I walked with him until I reached my class. I was going to turn down another hallway before then, but he like blocked my body and made me keep walking with him. I don’t know if he realizes that the small things he does makes my fucking heart want to jump out of my chest. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’d be really nice if he texted me. Or asked me to hang out. Or kissed me. Or just fucking hugged me again, I mean I’m not picky. I wish he would just hang out with me again. This time I wouldn’t let his sister interrupt. He’s going into the army. Once we graduate, he’s going to basic. I have little to no time to get him to realize how I feel about him. Because honestly, it’d be hard, but I have no problem being a soldier’s wife. I would travel the world with him, as long as he was mine… I wouldn’t care. The boy who liked me when I was a tubby ass loser. I just want to be able to wake up in his arms, at least once. Just fucking once. I love you, J. Please stop joking about being my valentine and just be mine.

003

First, I’d like to mention that I’m only doing this right now, instead of later on tonight, because my step mom is cooking and it’s something that I would usually binge on and I can really feel myself failing, so I’m trying to distract myself. And yeah. So I’m going to work on this, fall asleep, and by the time I wake up, hopefully I just won’t want to eat at all. So let’s try this. Today school was pretty drab, as always. I actually did a lot of my work and helped people and stuff. I can feel myself turning back into my usual too-smart self. Which is good. My stomach has been super bothering me today, and I don’t know why… well maybe I do. I haven’t skipped both lunch and breakfast for months now. Usually I could go through a school day without eating a bite and it wouldn’t phase me at all. I need to get back to that.

I made a list of things for me to write about at school today, so I’ll try to cover then. They first thing on my list was effects of fasting. And I don’t mean the obvious ones, like losing weight, blah blah, but I’d like to go into more detail. For me, when I fast, I feel a lot different than usual. I feel a little light-headed, but not a lot, and my stomach growls a lot for the first day or so. I feel really friendly and happy all the time, and I’m more motivated to do things. I’m nicer to my parents, more agreeable, eager to clean my room and do chores, and funnier around my peers. I don’t feel as sluggish and upset as when I’m constantly eating. I feel as if I have all the time in the world to do whatever I please. It’s a nice feeling. Usually I lose between 2-3 pounds for the first three or so days, and then I lose either .7 or 1 pound a day. The most I fast for is for 7 days, and that’s only to get me out of a long period of binging. My feet tend to tingle, as well as my legs. I don’t know why this happens. I get little pains in my shoulders and hands… really just all over my body. But it’s a nice kind of pain, like after you work out for a while. It’s hard to explain. I’m just a more agreeable person in general when I’m fasting.

he next on my list was to describe the differences between vicodin and Percocet, and mention some things about weed. Well, for those of you who don’t know, Vicodin and Percocet are opiate painkillers. Vicodin contains hydrocodone and Percocet contains oxycodone. To me, the relationship I strength between the two is 10 mg of vicodin= 5 mg of Percocet. I have recently taken Percocet for the first time, and it was ahmazing. Don’t try it, but seriously. It was heavenly. I had forgotten, but the high I felt from 10 mg of Percocet was the same as a high I received from 20 mg of vicodin. However, the vicodin had given me a massive, almost unbearable headache and nausea that lasted into the next day. Percocet, on the other hand, gave me no nausea, no headache, and it lasted longer and had more noticeable effects. When you’re high on opiates, it’s like… warm and fuzzy. Like you just have a sensation as if you are tingling, but it’s more of a slow, tingle… if that makes any sense. And you feel really warm. It’s like… think of the most comfortable place you have ever been, and times that by a million. It’s hard to explain, but it’s just so addictive, and wonderful. Euphoric. I remember myself just smiling with like this wide mouthed ecstatic grin and moving my hands around in front of my face and cuddling underneath my blankets. It was lovely. If I had a steady supply of it, I know for a fact that I would be addicted. I also rand down eleven flights of stairs while high on Percocet,  and I was completely coordinated and everything, if not more so. Now, this type of high is what I would call a body high, and not a mind high. Some people may disagree, but I feel more of a sensation kind of thing with opiates, whereas weed is mostly a mind/hallucination high. With weed, I don’t stumble around like I’m drunk, but I’ll forget where my feet are/forget I have feet and trip over them. I don’t slur my words, but I’ll forget what I was going to say or said right after I said it. Everything feels like you’re watching a movie. I remember the first time I smoked, I would go do something, and then go right back to where I had been seated before, and I would say, “I feel like I just went outside.” Or “I know I just did something but I don’t remember what.” This can be a little frightening, such as if you are driving high and once you get home you don’t know how you got there. (This happened to me) But I find that driving while high sobers you up and you’re really able to pay attention and make the right choices. I wouldn’t advice doing that on like the highway, but since I live on one, I was fine. Plus, when you’re stoned, you have some of the best conversations ever. Like, they are amazing. You come up with these theories and have epiphany after epiphany, and it’s really great. On opiates I just want to either be quiet and enjoy the high or I’m completely normal and nothing spectacular happens. Moral of my story: If you don’t do drugs, the most you should ever try is weed, because it’s safe. Don’t do pills. If you do drugs, try OxyContin/Percocet with weed. Or ecstasy (I’ll talk about that later, if you’d like). It’s fucking amazing.  

Oh, last night (I totally thought this actually happened until I thought about it later today) I had a nightmare, I guess you could say, in which I was just covered in stretch marks. Like, they were all over my arms and my face, and like weird places. And I just remember being really upset, but I thought it was real. I hate ED dreams.

So, I was thinking, that food is like an addiction. Hunger is like a withdrawal symptom. If no one had ever decided to eat, would we even need to? I can’t help but think that if for thousands of years no one over-indulged and ate very little that eventually food would become pointless. Then we could all be perfect and thin and get all the food we need from a little photosynthesis. And in the winter we could all have a room with UV lights, and we would sit in it to get food. And yeah. I think that would be great. Because no one would get fat. And I think we are so accustomed to thinking, oh you are going to feel hungry and then you will have to eat. Can someone describe hunger? What does it feel like? Asks someone and they will say, “It’s when you want to eat.” Well how do you know you want to eat? “Because I’m hungry.” There’s really no way of truly knowing if you are hungry. So if no one had ever given us the concept of being hungry, would anyone even feel hunger? Could food just be like, something to took three times a day, like a with the same concept of a multivitamin? I think it could have been possible for us to have some kind  of a vitamin, or a couple vitamins, that contained everything we need to get by. There could be a pill filled with the correct amount of fat, carbs, sugar, vitamins, etc., to keep us going. Again, then no one would get fat. I don’t know, maybe I’m just too consumed by food.

I’ve decided that I’m going to weigh myself tomorrow morning. I’m really scared to see how much I’ve gained, but I need to know how much I weigh so that I can see my progress, and all that. Ugh. I just know it’s going to ruin my day tomorrow. I’ve also come to the conclusion that since gaining all this fucking weight, I look like a fat boy. My best friend was trying to take a candid picture of me, and I just looked at myself on the screen and thought, “What the fuck? Have I always looked this dreadful?” There was a point when I thought I at least had a pretty face, so I know it’s the extra weight making me look like this. Just another reason why it has to go.

I hate going to my mom’s but I always look forward to going. I hate going because, 1. She always makes so much fucking food. And she’s like psycho about feeding people so she will force me to eat like the greasiest things, and if I don’t eat it she gets all upset and pissed and cries and shit. I hate it. 2. She barely talks to me. I get there on Friday, and then I go into the bedroom and she sits in the kitchen and listens to stories and plays poker on her iPod until the wee hours. And if I ask her to like, watch a movie with me or something, she says she “Just wants to relax and have time to do what she wants to do.” Bitch, you have two weeks to do that. The least you can do it sit in the same room with me. I love going there though, because at least I get to relax. And I know she loves me, because if I tell her I feel sick, she’ll rub my back and stuff. So that’s nice. And she hugs me a lot, and I almost never get hugs here. Not like how she gives them. And I miss her lots, really. We had the best times when I lived with her. She thinks I’m like, hilarious, too. Which always makes me feel nice. And no one else really enjoys me ranting about my dad as much as her.

(Side note: I totally feel like shit right now. I feel so sick and nauseous. Ohhhhhh noooo ughhhhh shitttt.)

002

I just got back from a trip to Vegas a few days ago, and I really wish I could go back. I loved it there. I mean… there were so many beautiful people there. And I just wasn’t one of them. I was embarrassed to walk around. I ripped one of my only good pair of jeans, so now I only have one pair of jeans that I can wear. I’m so upset. I feel just… stupid. Like I’m wasting my life away by being this way. I complain and complain about being this way, but seriously, it’s not like I’m going to do anything about it. I’ve been bitching about being a fat-ass for YEARS now, and I’m still fat as ever. Fatter. At least people liked me before. I’m done making extensive plans that I never follow… I’ve just got to set it up so that I eat as little as possible ad work out as much as possible. Then I’ll lose weight. It’s crucial that I meet my goal by summer. At this rate, there is no way that I’m going to go to Prom, and I’ll probably regret that for the rest of my life.

I’m starting a new fan fiction so that might occupy a lot of my time. It’s Luna/George. I’ve never done that before, but I really like it so far. It’s in George’s POV. I’ll post a link once I post it onto a site or something, but it won’t be for a while. I’d like to have at least five or so chapters before I post it.

I’ve given up on being happy at high-school. I’m just going to go through each day, doing my work and paying attention, just so that I can graduate. That’s all I want. I just need to graduate and get the fuck out of that hell-hole. I can’t stand my school, and everyone in it. They’re so fake, and superficial, and just… they all act like they’re the shit. They act like they’re “the realist”, when really the only thing real about them is their obvious stupidity. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being surrounded by people who are so shallow, so consumed by partying and their friends and this tiny little shit-hole town that is their own world. They are all so closed-minded, and focused with making it seem like they don’t give a fuck when really, if they truly didn’t give a fuck, they wouldn’t take the time to repeat over and over and over that they don’t give a fuck. Oh, sure, call me jealous. Call me a hypocrite, if you’d like. I’m just tryin’ to be real. That’s what you’re all about, am I right? Being real? It’s all a competition to see who can be the realest kid around. Firstly, what the fuck does that even mean? If you’re real, does that make the next person less of an actual being? Are you saying that they are a fake person? That they aren’t really here and are just an apparition?

I won’t lie, I’ve had my times of being fake in my attempt to be real. You have to, in order to survive. Say I went in school tomorrow. People are talking shit about someone who sent pictures that got sent around the school. I’ll probably giggle a bit; call her a whore like the rest of them. But you know what? I don’t really think she’s a whore. We all send pictures. If you say you haven’t, you’re a fucking liar because you have. The one that everyone should be attacking is the asshole who sent her pictures around in the first place. But do we? No. Even though I’ve been in her situation, I still laugh. What a dumb whore. We all say. Who the fuck is that dumb? That girl was dumb, yes. Dumb to trust that guy. Dumb to think that her friends would have her back throughout the ordeal. Dumb to put her face in the picture.

Everything we say in conversation is just a part of a script. We all run through it each day of our lives, and we’ve gotten it memorized over the years. We know the right comebacks, the right phrases and sayings. Someone says something you agree with? Say, “I know, right?” Someone says something about someone you don’t like? Say, “Fuck them.” “I don’t give a fuck.” I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not doing a good job. But, you know what I mean. We dance around each other in some kind of elaborate ballet, trying to think of the cleverest, most inappropriate, ignorant things to say. Master that, and everyone likes you. Oh, and you have to be a dick. That’s the biggest requirement to being accepted at my school; you have to be an asshole. If you aren’t a complete dick, no one likes you. People always think that the asshole is funny, and they love their “honesty”. Honesty my fucking ass. Stop trying to be all holier than thou, and stop acting like you think you’re better than anyone because we all know that you’re going to grow up to be a drunk and cheat on your spouse and have like ten kids with ten different people. Oh, but you’ll still be standing off to the side saying, “I don’t give a fuck.” Oh of course. I fucking hate you all. Get a fucking life.

The thing I hate the most is that I become one of them. When I don’t eat, I mean. When I’m on my superthindon’teatgottastarvegottaworkout crazy time, I turn into a bitch. I think I’m the shit when guys start talking to me, and I completely lose who I am. Maybe that’s why I can’t keep the weight off. When I look decent I become a self absorbed slutty bitch. And I just think that all the other slutty fake bitches are the most wonderfully clever people on earth and I love them and want to be besties with them. Fuck. Me. Why does this happen? And the thing is, when I’m like that, I don’t care that I’m like that. And I laugh at those who try to say what I’m staying right now. And once I binge and binge and binge, I go back to normal. But no one listens to the fat girl. No one likes the fat, moody girl. They’ll take the pretty moody girl. But fat and moody is too much. Which is why I just need to stop fucking eating. I don’t know what my point was in all that. I need to smoke a bowl. I wish I had my fucking bowl. God damn it.

Goals:
140: Buy Rotoh eyedrops
135:Wear fancy shirt with leggings
130: Nails done
125: New Pair of Jeans
120: Get extensions
115: Buy new clothes
110:New shoes (toms, 2 pair)
107: Buy a new bowl/bong/bubbler
 Goal for the end of the month is to be 140.

I'm planning on fasting until Sunday. We'll see how that goes. I'm doing better, I think. It shouldn't be too hard. I'm planning on taking a couple vicodin before school along with a cup of black coffee. I'll be waking up around 6 so I should really go to sleep right now. Plans for tomorrow afterschool include:
-Doing more missing Physics
-Do some Precalculus
-Attempt Chemistry
-Workout 30 minutes+
-Write more of my Guna fic
-Write a blog entry
-Search for that damn romper
-Take a couple more vicodin
-Take a nap
-Update Tumblr

I'd say that should occupy my evening... and I won't have to eat. Maybe I'll have a cup of tea to fill me up and keep me from eating. If I keep telling myself that it'll work out, it will. I won't let anything fuck it up. Not bringing any money to school, I'm going to save  it up to buy myself something nice when I lose weight. I'm so disgustingly fat. I have no clue what I'm going to wear to school tomorrow, as none of it fits me anymore. I may cry. Fuck.