When I was
a young boy
took me into the city
to see a marching band
he said ‘son don’t get too attached to this band because bands break up and you will cry’
We went for a lovely walk and stumbled upon the remains of someone else’s very bad day.
I don’t need a man to handle my shit.
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain
Clings cruelly to us.
I’ve been fasting for days and yesterday I broke my streak. And on top of that, I broke it by eating MEAT. FUCKING MEAT. I haven’t had meat in so long that it made me vomit as soon as I finished. I feel guilty for eating it, for exploiting an animal that had no choice in me eating it. But I hate how weak this flesh is even more. I have to be skinny. Every time I look in the mirror it is ALWAYS the same. Same fat arms, same disgusting stomach, same thighs that just won’t mother fucking slim down. I do everything I’m supposed to do. I live on water. I work out to the point of exhaustion. I feel like I’m drowning. I am drowning. I will never be thin enough. Fuck, I’ll never even be thin in the first place. I’ll always be this disgusting monster. I hate my reflection, I hate my face, my stupid fucking body is out to get me. I look at all these pictures of skinny, beautiful girls with long hair and full lips and it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. It’s like taking ten steps back. I will never look like them. But I want to. I so, so want to.