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Words 2002 Words, April 2002 rubbery yellow chewy stalks | rubbery yellow chewy stalks |
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I had this uncontrollable desire to go fishing through the rubble in my garage for my long-lost, probably rusty, no longer sharp razor blades i've intentionally misplaced. Even though the teeth on my serrated knife do a bit more lasting harm, I've grown sick of it. It seems a little less courageous and uh...serious to say the least. And although I haven't done any damage whatsoever besides stuff in my head since one month ago today, and breaking that run wouldn't be that huge of a fall, I still didn't think it was necessary. Even though I really wanted to. also, i read this today on a blogger i frequent: "i find myself lurking on chat groups and websites where hordes of high school girls go to find out how to get this disease of mine, where they trade tips on how to achieve the misery i inflict on myself everyday. i'm horrified yet fascinated by the idea that anyone who could choose would want this, that anyone could think this lonely, cold semi-existence is one to work towards. "i find myself wanting to play games with these young minds. part of me wants to save them, of course...but then there's the other part of me. the deep dark mean part, that wants to prove to these silly, stupid girls trying to avoid pizza night with the family that it really is true what they say- be careful what you wish for. "but mostly i want to tell them that it doesn't matter how small you are, or how thin you get. it doesn't matter if you weigh in- as i do now- at 87 pounds. cause if you hate what's on the inside, getting thinner only gets you closer to the core, closer to the part you hate. "feeling like the rubbery yellow chewy stalks at the inside of a celery bunch." ~small Last update: 27-04-2002 04:45
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