Fictitiously Me

I look at people, and I see this happiness that I'm not allowed. I can't grasp it, or touch it, cause most of the time, I'm following the people around me for the lead. I'm not so good at this social crap, especially since I've been obsessing over my weight.

Fuck my grandmother for not allowing me to socialize in junior high and high school, the period in life where children learn to make connections and communicate, the periods in life where socialization have the most significance.

I'm broken. Fuck it. I'm damaged, I'm not this normal girl. I'm cynical. Jaded. Distorted.

Oh, heavens, the great laughter that echoes down these halls. You used to call me a fatty. Knock me down a peg or two. And now, the tables have turned. I savor the taste of what must be your disdain. Your body is bloated, ballooned with weight. You're a cow, fatter than me at this point. It's gross, disgusting, I could never touch your body. I may not be perfect, but I don't have rolls the way that you do. My face is bloated like yours. My thighs aren't thick tree trunks. God you're fucking disgusting, what did I ever see in you?

And your girlfriend, she's obese. Really. I'm sure she's going to croak from all that fatty food she shoves into her mouth. Shovel it down with some crisco. Choke on it bitch, for leaving when I needed my best friend the most. I hope you're happy in your own self misery.

I've lost more weight. I can wear a size 7 pantie again. I dropped from a 9 down to a 7. I can my body thinning, my pants fitting better. I'm excited. I think I may reach my goal of 145 by January.

I know, gross, but I fit back into my size 12 pants. I was afraid to try them on yesterday, but I had nothing else clean to wear, so I broke them out.

Omg I still have a bit of fat to loose before I fit into them perfectly. I can't wait.

And I'm moving again because my land lord breached the contract, so I have a one bedroom now. It's $700 a month. It's a little less than half my monthly income, and my entire paycheck from work unless they give me a raise, but it's a roof over my head, and it's month to month, and right across the street from campus in a good neighborhood where I'll be safe, so I'm not too disappointed.

Anyways, that's all for now.

It's working. I'm getting thinner. My arms are slimming down, my belly fat is receding, and my face is thinner. I'm so excited! I'm feeling awesome and I'm determined to work harder to get thinner. It's only been three weeks, I can't imagine what I will look at by the sixth week. I wish I had a scale. I'm going to buy one once I get paid.

Off to tan and swim a bit!

It's my goal. I want my supervisor to hate me, I want my ex to hate that he ever messed with me, I want my ex roommates to hate me. Why?

Because I'm intelligent, and I'm goal oriented. What am I missing? I'm not a skinny bitch.

By January, I swear, I will weigh 155 pounds and be a skinny bitch.

They will hate me, and I will love it.

I won't be happy until I'm lean and thin

I won't be happy until I can see my collar bones and hip bones

I know this

And I want to be happy

So until I see my collar bones and hip bones I'm going to keep motivated

So my grandmother is an utter bitch. Today she told me I was bigged boned, and I'd never be skinny.

Bitch.

I got in a fight with the boy.

I hate him sometimes.

I'm not talking to him anymore.

I'll have more time to exercise.

I told myself I would quit updating this journal.

I told myself I would quit counting calories, not that I'm that hard core but I think I'm beginning to loose control.

I'm only restricting to 1600 calories a day which is still healthy.

But watching as the calories drop lower and lower each day makes me happy. The fact that I'm too broke to eat makes me happy. I'm starving, but I don't care. I keep telling myself it's better than cutting; this way I loose weight and I don't end up with nasty scars.

I got into a fight with my bf. I'm mad. I'm tired of feeling like he doesn't love me. I'm tired of the fact that his parents spit on my face. I'm sick of it. Nothing I do is ever good enough. I don't get A's and B's in college and I'm mad. I fail. I feel like my past will always hold me back. It will always haunt me so why don't I give in?

Hello shiny things...

If you were here, my mother, mother I'd tell you I fear.

I'm about to cross the line, to take the step and cross that invisible boundary into the great Unknown.

Mother! Mother I fear I'm about to cross over to the dark place.

I hate what I see in the mirror more and more each day.

I knew this day was coming, I've felt it for a long time.

But I feel I lost this battle long ago, and now I'm simply giving in.

The mood swings, I can't handle this anymore.

This body, this body is disgusting.

And I'm alone with no one at home.

So now I lace up the running shoes and put foot to pavement.

Mother I Fear!

I am

I beat

I knead

I cut

I am

Nothing

And then something

I am everything and nothing

Tear me apart

Rip me apart

I'm losing faith in your love

Losing feeling to your touch

You move

I breathe

I cry

I wither

I despair

There's a stranger in the mirror

With dead glass eyes

She's staring back at me

Asking me

Just where the hell did I go

Everything

And then Nothing.

I'm on the verge of this chasm full of emptiness.

Stupid girl, I don't believe in love.

Rip at my chest.

Tear out this beating disease.

I am not. I am not. I am not this fucking monster.

I'm on this verge

Pleading with the girl inside my head

Let me fall!

Or let me Live!

I'm sick of the shadowed lands where my nightmares roam

That taunt the waking mind

Beckoning me closer

This is not my ultimate low.

I believe in tragic beauty.

Dingy, torn jeans
Vintage tops
Beads
Too many rings on one hand
Black nail polish
Torn baby dolls
Hoop earrings
Big sunglasses
Dark hair
Skinny girls
Cigarettes and beer bottles
Nights on the beach
Bonfires and sunsets at night

I've always been girl deep down; tragically beautiful. My insides are torn apart by the twenty two years I've been inhaling this poison. Underneath it all I feel I'm this truly fucked up individual, but I feel I'm not alone. We're all tragically beautiful, born into this fucked up Utopia where we strive to fix ourselves before our death, only to spew forth mini replications of our better selves. God knows I can't make this world a better place; my only hope is to pass along the best of what I've salvage and give the kids a fighting chance to tear this reality down, create a revolution and start over.

I've loved you most of this life, unrequited as it was, until you peeled my eyelid back and woke me from my haze.

You see, I can't love you anymore.

It's not a matter of not wanting. No, I must confess, I wish I could love you the way I once did. I clutch onto it, hold onto it with all my might, but I can't hold on any longer.

This cage, this cage that I've built, I have to let myself. I have to release myself from you, and turn my back, and walk away.

Because you're poison. You destroy. You rip people down to make yourself feel secure, and in light of this behavior, I know you're not going to change. Because you see, I've known you since you and I were young. This is the way it's always been. This how it's always been. I'm your whipping girl. You always dragged me down to lift yourself up.

I'm worth more than that. I don't need you, and I don't want you. Wanting you is like wanting a hole in my head. In end, it's not really beneficial to me at all. I need someone who wants more out of life, who expects more out life, who needs more than a mere existence out of life.

I'm done. I'm walking away. It's taken me a year, but I'm done. I'm done Alice.

I hope you're happy and you're well. I wish you the best in years to come, but I know you've thrown something precious away, something you'll never have again: Someone who truly understands and respects you for who you are; it's something rare.

Blood thirsty girl
I gave you all I've got
Now you're back
Asking for more
I can't deny you
I can't deny you
I'll give my wrist
So you can slice me deep