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Tuesday, January 18, 2005
This made me laugh. Seems to capture the essence of her writing rather perfectly.
I plodded to school as well as I could on a bicycle. I've never been hit. I've hit one person who stepped out from behind an ice-cream truck, and he dropped his ice cream. His friends asked me to buy him more, but I said no. He's lucky he avoided the calories.
I'm kind of obsessed actually. With body, form, fitness, eating. When I get home my mind shorts out, until I've devoured. Whatever's there, goes. It feels like... I don't know.
And then I'll wish to uneat everything.
Every morning I'll feel fat or thin, and if I feel thin I'll have a good day. If I feel fat everything's worse than before. I'm crowded, swollen. Claustrophobic. Pallid and wasting my life in this body. I can't move, can't open my eyes.
Fat isn't me. I weigh less than ever in my life, but euphoria only lasts when the weight's going down.
It's an empty pastime. Damaging and perpetuated by every bit of me. I scream at myself to stop thinking about it. Or to eat less. Or to not worry.
There's some things that happen in life where you expect everything to change. Like losing weight; like getting a girlfriend. But my life doesn't go as I'd expect. Things change when you're focused elsewhere. Everything moves faster when you're not concentrating on it. Look away for too long, and you won't come back to where you left from. And change is hard, if nothing else. Hard...
I plodded to school as well as I could on a bicycle. I've never been hit. I've hit one person who stepped out from behind an ice-cream truck, and he dropped his ice cream. His friends asked me to buy him more, but I said no. He's lucky he avoided the calories.
I'm kind of obsessed actually. With body, form, fitness, eating. When I get home my mind shorts out, until I've devoured. Whatever's there, goes. It feels like... I don't know.
And then I'll wish to uneat everything.
Every morning I'll feel fat or thin, and if I feel thin I'll have a good day. If I feel fat everything's worse than before. I'm crowded, swollen. Claustrophobic. Pallid and wasting my life in this body. I can't move, can't open my eyes.
Fat isn't me. I weigh less than ever in my life, but euphoria only lasts when the weight's going down.
It's an empty pastime. Damaging and perpetuated by every bit of me. I scream at myself to stop thinking about it. Or to eat less. Or to not worry.
There's some things that happen in life where you expect everything to change. Like losing weight; like getting a girlfriend. But my life doesn't go as I'd expect. Things change when you're focused elsewhere. Everything moves faster when you're not concentrating on it. Look away for too long, and you won't come back to where you left from. And change is hard, if nothing else. Hard...
