fuck.

fuck capital letters and punctuation for this post, i only have a minute to type this post before some kind of beast from the family comes down and snatches the computer away from my chubby little hands.

let's have a re-cap of the last few days, shall we? saturday, fast. sunday, 270 calories. monday, same sunday. tuesday, 440 calories. today? biggest fucking failure of my lifetime. i want to scream, eat, cry, eat, attempt purge, eat, fuckeveryfuckingthing, then fuckingeatmyfuckingfaceoff. what is wrong with me? the last few days went by perfectly. i was hopeful i was beginning to lose. i felt light and airy and dizzy that even if i fell off the highest cliff i would float down like a balloon. why did i give up this feeling, exactly? because i'm an unworthy, binging cow. the amount of calories i ate today was twice as much as i'd eaten the last four days. i'm a failure. i want to scream until the world falls down. i want to purge but my body won't let go. i want to hide under every blanket i have and sleep there for weeks. my grades are fucking horrible, my friends hate me, and i can't even do this?

the train always manages to fall off the track, or find a way to fuck it all up. this train needs fixed or replaced, before it explodes in to a million pieces.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

fasts fix everything.

Fucked up yesterday. The train de-railed and fell over, sliding across the ice. Today the ice thawed, the train found the track through the fog, and everything was running smoothly again. In other words, I fasted today. It was extremely easy too, I've not craved anything yet. I'm hungry, but it feels good. It's welcoming, almost soothing.

I'm not writing much because I put fake nails on, and they're pissing me off.
It's hard to type.

Ariana.
xo

little bird, where have you gone.

Hier, my intake came to around 550 calories. I'm sure my control is slowly sinking back in to me, but I don't want to jinx myself. I've become very good at doing that. Today's intake has been 370 calories, and I might have a tangerine later if I feel my willpower slipping through my fingers. I apologize about my last post, again. I have these strange, depressing episodes where I have to write something morbidly disgusting, then I regret it later. Way to go, Ariana.

Are negative calorie fruits real, or is it just a myth? Everywhere I look, they have both sides of the battle. I need one side, kay thanks. One of my.. friends, K, is accusing my other friend, E, of having an eating disorder, and she's being extremely uptight about it. It's hysterical. I have to sit there at lunch biting my tongue. E is fucking pale, and always has been. She's lost quite a bit of weight over the past two years, but not drastically. I don't fucking care what either of them have to say, as long as I get skinnier. Ha.

I apologize, again, for not commenting on blogs. I've read them all, I promise. I have a month's worth of school work to catch up with because of the hospital-sick-diabetes-don'tfuckingknow situation. I was off for three-four weeks, because everyone is overreacting about the H1N1 bullshit. I'd be happy if I got the Swine Flu, it's an excuse not to eat.

Aren't I just the most pessimistic person you've ever met?

Ariana.
xo

scattered thoughts #2

Ignore this post, I'm just being emotional/overtired/a wreck.

I want to curl up in a ball and never see the daylight again. I will make a nest in the bathroom and live off the water from the sink. No food will ever enter my mouth and travel through my body, and the weight will drop off me like rainwater. I will be delivered books and new music through the letterbox I will build in the door. I will read about things I'd never imagine glancing at, and explore every genre of music. I will paint the walls with literature, a hundred thousand words staring holes in my back. I'll learn every language spoken. Monday I'll be singing in Latvian and Tuesday I'll be scalding myself in Chinese. The only other contact I'll have will be with my pet rat, Harold. We'll live happily forever until the world crumbles beneath the cracks of the universe and everything is engulfed in darkness.

I have to stop dreaming and keep in touch with reality. The days float by, minutes tick slowly, but the hours pass too fast. The calorie counter keeps increasing, until it exceeds it's limit and explodes into a thousand shards. The feelings are not vivid, but I try to believe they are. The work is whining to be done, but I pretend it's not there. It can wait, it's not priority. Wait, yes it is. It is priority, but it's not important enough for me to care. I'm piecing my sanity back together with tape, but it's not strong enough. It will work temporarily, but it's only making it's condition worse. Ariana put her life back in the toy box and somebody else has already taken it.

Nine hundred and fifty calories today. Each, single calorie is eating away at my brain. Fat, failure, weak, disappointment, unworthy, fuck you, youfailfailfail. You can't do this, nobody wants you, go curl up in your box and don't come back. You're on time out, you need a life, you need mental help. No, I'm quite fine, thank you.

I need a plan. I need a schedule. I need something to make me think I'm alive, in this time period, not a ghost floating by this century. I want friends, I want him, but he doesn't want me no more. He threw Ariana in the trash can and didn't bother to recycle. He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows everything, he reads my mind, I'm scared. He's planted tape recorders in my brains and feeds on my thoughts. Who wants anything to do with this silly, messed up little girl? I don't blame him, in all honesty.

The doctors can erase my mind, but the obsession is embedded in my blood. It rules my soul, my life, my body. I can't control it anymore. What is this?

Ariana.
xo

My, my, it's been three days. Wednesday I was too ashamed to post, Thursday I was too lazy to post, but today seems okay I am thinking. Since it's been brought up, Wednesday was all binge-mode. I can't even recall what I ate, I was in a drunken haze of calories. Yesterday my intake was 600, and today has been 450, so it's good to be back on track.

The biggest reason I'm posting is because I need somewhere to rant. Shocker, I know. I did promise I wouldn't whine anymore, but this deserves to be ranted about. They now have a Starbucks in our shitty little town. This is fucking huge. Starbucks was my saviour, my love, my heroine when I lived in the city. When I moved to where I currently live now, I found out they didn't have it. I almost had heart failure. And just when I'm getting used to not having my daily dose of love, they bring it over here? Fuck you, Starbucks. You and your amazing, calorie-filled cappuccinos. My mom also got these amazing sugar cookies. They only sell them on Valentines and Halloween, and they're fucking good. I had one yesterday and today, but I honestly can't wait until they're gone. They're is 180 calories in one of those little fuckers. That's a big ass dent in my intake. I want to pull my hair out and lock myself in my room. I can arrange that. /rant

Oh wait, one more thing. It's snowing. It's fucking snowing. Is mother nature mad at this little place? Did we do something to upset you? I apologize for all of us. So please, just bring back the fucking Fall. It's the only season I like.

I had to go back to the doctor's office again. Poke, poke, poke. I'm on iron supplements and some other shit. I blocked out the bitch completely and let my mom listen, since she insisted on coming. All I know is that they want more of my blood. Holy shit.

This post sounds intellectual. Sarcasm.

Ariana.
xo

finding the path.

I love this girl. I found this picture a couple of weeks ago, then closed the window without saving the damn thing. I just found it again today and fell in love. I adore her hipbones and thighs, she looks so light and fragile and pretty. I keep staring at it, and it's making me feel like a pervert.

Today has been pretty good, I'm now focused again. Ariana has came out of the loony bin and has scrubbed her mind clean of diseases and lies. I attempted to fry two egg whites this morning. They looked more like pancakes than fried eggs. I swear to god, I've never put so much effort into cooking. Quite sad, isn't it. That was around 40 calories, including a quick spray of PAM oil stuff. I had some pasta for supper, which was 390 exactement. Add five calories for gum and we have a grand total of 435 calories. I was chewing my nails this morning out of frustration that I was so fucking tempted to eat. It was driving me insane.

I have more blood tests tomorrow, and I don't wanna go, but my mom offered to drive me and now I'm fucked because I accepted. I already know I'm Anemic, I know I have a heart murmur, what the fuck else do they want to dump on me? I'm not as sick as it sounds, I just tend to over exaggerate when I whine.

Anyways, I have nothing more to report, so I'm done for now my loves.

Ariana

xo

here comes the sun.

I must say I utterly despise Thanksgiving, with a newborn passion. Why must we celebrate every event with eating, eating, and more eating? There are other ways to celebrate, like parties, and gifts, and everything else that doesn't involve food. I don't know, maybe I'm just trying to do the impossible. It was terrible today. There was so much food. I don't even want to know how many calories went through me. I think I might use the laxatives to wash them all out. Whoosh!

Thank you for the music suggestions, Stick Thin and Tabbi! I loved every single band and singer. New music is so refreshing. Mwah.

Anyways, it's a two day school week, which is fabulous. I should be studying for what, five tests that I think I have. I don't even know what subjects, so fuck it all. I was sick, that's a good enough excuse. Je ne pense pas. Tuesday and Wednesday will both be under 500 calories, because I need to get back on track. If I stay off the track any longer, I'll lose sight of it and I'll be wondering through the land of desperation and misery. Oh, shit! The doctors are stealing more blood from me on Wednesday, I completely forgot. That's too bad, because no amount of blood is stopping me from restricting, mes amis. They can all go to hell, because I stopped caring a long time ago.

I still need to call my friends, I forgot to do it. Shit. I've been rather forgetful recently. No, I'm pretty sure I've always been.

I'm thinking I should go watch Gossip Girl and throw inanimate objects at the TV because they're all so glamorous and beautiful and perfectperfectperfect. That sounds perfect.

I'm sorry I haven't done any commenting. I'm sorry I seem so selfish to complain about myself then not bother to even encourage others. I'm sorry I'm coming across as a self centered bitch. I'm sorry I'm such a fucked up mess that is currently hysterical over so many things. But I swear to the high heavens, I will comment tomorrow, or the day after. I swear, I promise, I bow down on my fucking knees.

Now, off to do homework and watch Gossip Girl.

Love you all, stay strong, beautiful and happy!
xo

negative no more.

I'm debating on whether I should delete my last few posts, because honestly, they are morbidly depressing. It makes me cringe just to read over them because they are so terrible and disgusting and I don't know because my vocabulary lacks extraordinary words! I am back to myself, my radio has touched earth, and I am in a fabulous mood! Although I certainly don't deserve to be because my eating today has been too much as it has been the past few days, so I won't touch down on that too much. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and since my family seems to think I have a ravenous disease because I was in hospital, I will get away with not eating much at dinner. I hate family dinners, it's too cosy, too together, too family-ish. I am an antisocial creature and I do not want to leave my room, merci beaucoup. So go have fun and give me my laptop back before you leave.

I am thinking once I break 100lbs I will post pictures. Although I'm short and small and childish-looking and self conscious. Too self conscious for this strange personality I possess. Although it will take some time before I break that banner because I am slow and the nurses are stalking me and my blood won't lie and my parents won't SHUT UP. But I will try and swear to fucking god I will get there because I won't give up. As long as the peanut butter and the bread and the cheese and the oreos and the ice cream will stop crawling into my head and stealing my thoughts. No more excuses! Ariana is going to do it or die trying. Ha ha ha ha! And if I don't, you all have to tell me what a downright utter waste of space I am, but that won't happen because I will get there if it means sewing my mouth shut. Now I'm getting ahead of myself and making myself excited over nothing.

Anyways! I must go bake a chocolate cake against my will for Thanksgiving tomorrow to show that I actually do care even though skipping that gathering would be heaven. I will resist and the batter will not jump into my mouth and I will not want it and I will not throw the bowl at the wall because it pissed me off. Tomorrow will be nothing more than Thanksgiving dinner. Other than that, water, black coffee, and my dear Diet Coke.

I am thinking I should call my friends to let them know I am alive and out of hospital even though they don't care and have no interest for me. I am thinking I should just disappear off the side of the earth and never ever talk to them until I have to or until they actually remember I'm a human being that they pretend to like! Then I will pretend to be relieved they care, or just ignore their calls all together. That sounds better.

One more thing! I need music. Anything! I don't care if it makes me go What the hell, or makes me cry, or makes me depressed or seriously happy, just anything. Thinspirational, amusing, upbeat, slow, show me whatcha got.

Love you all, stay strong, beautiful and happy!
xo

scattered thoughts

Reading over my last post, I am sorry it's so unorganized. In the future, I will not post when I'm about to pass out from exhaustion. My thoughts and aspirations are allowing themselves to spill all over the page without my permission, yet I can't seem to stop them. They seep in between the lines. Rotting stains.

I question myself everyday. Why. Do. I. Do. This. A have a thousand answers and can't even say one. I sit here eating, imagining the places I'll go and the things I'll do when I reach t.h.i.n. I'm excited, inspired, motivated. Then I think about what I'm doing. Eating. Thinking. What's wrong with this picture? Nothing. Everything. I'm speaking my own language that nobody can understand. I'm stomping my feet but nobody listens. Hello, over here. I fell through the looking glass but the ghosts pushed me back out. Permission denied. Nope, non, never. I promise tomorrow will be better, but it seems today keeps dragging on. The cycle never stops. Wash, rinse, repeat. The voices only taunt me when I'm alone. Even the music can't drown out their noise. I breathe out my dreams and inhale the disappointment, the reality.

I'm thinking that I should stop hiding, and start now.
I'm thinking about the boy who is going to hurt himself when he sees I'm nothing.
I'm thinking about everyone else, because I know how they feel.
I'm thinking about how I can't remember what feeling thin is like.
I'm thinking about how I've been there, and how it should be easy if I've walked the trail before.
I'm thinking about how I don't know what day it is, because the pounds only matter.
I'm thinking about how I could sleep forever.
I'm thinking about why my body hurts, why my kidneys hurt, why my head hurts.
I'm thinking about why this post doesn't make sense and how depressing it sounds.
I'm thinking about how I could go on forever about my thoughts.

I always have much more to say, but when I actually get here I'm speechless. I'll waste the hours away, thinking about what to post, but I never remember. So literally, today sucked fucking ass. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to rip my skin to shreds but I won't because I'm too scared and tired to attempt. I want to sleep the weight away. Maybe if I sleep for three months, I'll wake up and scare myself because I'll be skinnier and that's something I haven't seen in forever. Then I'll put war paint on my face and run through the town naked to see if anyone recognizes me. Now I'm getting carried away.

I'm sorry for the silly posts, the endless rants, the emotional spillings, and all the other shit I've been posting lately. It will stop once I hit reality again.

And to all my watchers, you're all fucking amazing. I love every single one of you. I haven't commented on anyone's blog because I'm scared I'll say something ridiculous, because I've been in that mood the past couple of days.

It's Thanksgiving on Monday and I'm fucking terrified.

Well, haven't I got news for you all. I have that feeling in the back of my mind, telling me this will turn into a full blown rant, because I have so much dumped on my chest and so little people to scream it too! I want to yell, rejoice, and cry all at the same time, yet I'm, far too confused and out of it to even attempt any of these things. All my thoughts are mushed together into one big sentence, no breathers, no breaks, just one long run away train going ninety clicks an hour. My head hurts, my body hurts, I am tired yet Ariana is not ready to rest and is not ready to give up.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I said I was going to the doctor's that day. So I went, sat in a waiting room with whining kids and sweaty adults, and after two fucking hours, I was finally called in. The reason I actually went is because I have been having stomach/kidney/everyfuckingthing problems for the past year. Of course when the word 'stomach' pops up, they make you pee in a container. Ah, oui! C'est terrible. So I did what I was told like a good little girl. They came back in and said they're was sugar in my pee. They pricked my finger, and my blood sugar was high. You know what they tried to tell me?

I have fucking diabetes.

If my mom hadn't have grabbed my hand out of shock, I would've punched that doctor square in the face. Up to the hospital for you, Ariana! I had to stay overnight. They poked, prodded, and stole my blood. They were one hundred percent sure I had diabetes. I was a one hundred percent sure I did not. But yes, she has diabetes, no kidney problems, no bladder problems, no her heart is too fast. No, nothing is wrong with her. No, everything is wrong with her. Take more blood, just to be sure. Run tests, give her drugs, make her fly through the windows and float to the clouds. Lock her in a glass box, poke her with needles, but don't touch her. Don't ever touch her. She might reawaken the beast inside her, and swallow you whole.

Every two fucking hours they pricked my finger, all through the night. I didn't sleep. The monsters hid lurked inside the walls, trying to claw their way inside my head. They're going to make you better. No, they'll kill you. No, listen to me. No, only I matter! I block everyone out. I lock my doors and close the windows. My friends do not care. If I don't die, they don't have to pretend they care. Everything is fine, quite dandy, absolutely fabulous.

In the morning, I am clear of diabetes. Ariana is not infected. Everyone celebrates, I sit and stare. I fucking told you so. But she is not finished, not yet. One problem figured, a thousand more to fix. My kidneys are spazzing, whining about too much sugar, not enough. They're blaming the ibuprofen I was taking. They're saying everything is to do with over-the-counter drugs, the magical pills. I say this is bullshit, and that my kidneys are fine. My body is my body, so let me do what I want. I am not diabetic, I do not have kidney/bladder/mental problems, you're just trying to screw with me and get inside my head. I will not you let you do this, Mr Doctor, so leave me alone. I've sewn myself shut, and it would hurt to much to peel out the stitches.

I am free of the gloves, the hand sanitizer, and the nurses that suck up. I am done of peeing in containers and bleeding fingers. I am being treated as an outpatient. Ariana has to go back for more blood tests to see what's messing with her head, no body. I will be monitored like a little child, force fed, and tucked in at night. It's absolutely fascinating that they never even thought that I wasn't eating on purpose. I'm just relieved.

Anyways, I will come back to sanity and entries that make sense, if that's possible. I've been stuffed to my limit the past few days, so I don't even want to know how much I've gained. Since they're prying more blood from my sore, whining veins on Wednesday, I'm really not in the mood to be debated over again. I'll eat a little more than usual, and keep it healthy so my tests will come back somewhat sane.

And here's the best part. They gave me laxatives. Why? Fuck if I know. I'm not complaining, though. Well, I'm exhausted from thirty six hours of no sleep sans coffee. If you read any of this, or if it even makes sense, you will be the love of my life.

Bon Nuit
xo

Why must I be the center of sickness? Come right up! Choose from my fine selection of illnesses! I had to eat this morning, because I could barely drag myself out of my nest, and I'm being forced to the doctor's today. Ariana is going for bloodtests. Ariana is becoming the family ragdoll. Ariana does not want. I refused last time, do they really think I'll accept today? Oh, here. Take my blood and carve my problems in your medical books. Give me more drugs, and tell me I'm going to get better. Never give me a straight diagnosis, just keep shoving excuses down my throat. Fuck you, doctor.

I felt light and dizzy this morning. But not the I-haven't-eaten-and-I-feel-wonderfully-light feeling, the I'm-sick-and-I'm-going-to-fall-on-my-face kind of dizzy. All I've eaten is carbs. I will now try to cut these devilish dissapointments out of my life. Au revoir! Not absolutely, totally, completely. This will be a gradual process, because I am addicted to bread. I love it, hate it, and want to flush it down the toilet or stab it with a steak knife all at the same time. I'm already at 530 calories today, but I'm shit scared about the doctor. I planned to run when I got up this morning, but it was pouring buckets, and I can hardly walk down the stairs. I suck.

Anyways, I think I'll go take vitamins.
xo

Oh my goodness, how I envy her perfect collarbones, arms, and legs.

Bonjour, mes amis. Why am I posting yet again? Because anything that keeps me away from food is my friend. I almost caved, but that's not allowed. Not in Ariana's book. This is mostly a rant, so if you don't want to read about me whining, don't read ahead! :D

My step father is always complaining about how I don't eat enough, and that I need to put on more weight. I usually roll my eyes and walk away. Today he had the nerve to tell me I looked bloated yesterday? In other words, fat. He's a fucking overweight douchebag himself, so I have no idea what he's talkimng about. I've never liked him, and I've known him for what, eleven years? I can't fucking stand him. I looked bloated back a) I am fat b) I'd just ate, and my stomach was killing me, and c) I always look either bloated or skinny when I'm sick. Though I haven't seen the skinny in forever, it's just fatfatfat. I will fast until tomorrow evening, because I won't get away with skipping dinner, that's for sure. But if fate decides to love me that day, I will fast.

Anyways, enough of my annoying posts. Love to all!

xo

She has a little creepy cat

And a little creepy bat

Little rocking chair and an old blue hat

That little creepy girl

Oh she loves to sing

She has a little gift

An amazing thing

With her little funny eyes of hazel

With her little funny old blue hat

She will go and set the world on fire

No one ever thought she could do that

Today has been amazing so far. Intake is at zero, but my stomach, or whatever the fuck is in there, is attacking me with an axe. It hurts, so bad. I actually left school because I was in so much fucking pain. I couldn't sit down without squirming and receiving weird stares. Heh, I'm such an awkward girl. I'll be able to skip le souper, hopefully. Maybe this could turn out to be an amazing food-free day? I hope so.

So, here's a rant of jealousy and envy. I was out around town yesterday, and my mother wanted to come. I let her, but she was being a whiny bitch the whole time. Anyways, I went to a shoe store and there major thinspo. This girl who worked there was a fucking angel. She was an amazon though, like six feet tall? And extremely thin. I was scared her collarbones were going to pop out of her skin, and I loved it. Now, being a stumpy 5"1, I was completely envious. I have to rely on fucking heels to make me look taller. I want to be petite, though. Small, fragile, skinny. I was watching the video for 'Ignorance' by Paramore, and Hayley's legs are so fucking SKINNY. She's around the same height as me, therefore, I wanna look something like that.

Then of course I dragged through the supermarket. There was so many things. My eyes caught the ice cream, the poptarts, and the cookies, but my hands grabbed the insides of my pockets. I was talking to myself the whole time, saying 'Idonotwantthis.'Idonotwantthis. Idonotwantthis. Idonotwantthis.' It worked, but I think I disturbed a five year old girl and her mother.

Enough of my childish ranting, I must now do the homework I have been procrastinating for two days. I know it will not get done, but I shall try, maybe. I will go comment on blogs first, because I've read them all. I get really excited and girly-giggly when I see someone has posted. Is that weird? It's hard to define what's normal and strange with me.

Anywho, stay strong.
xoxo

MY TUMMY FUCKING KILLS. I've had around 700 calories togday, icky. I feel bloated and gross. I've already purged a little up because it hurts so bad. I'm going to go try again after I finish this post, because I feel nauseous. It's like my stomach has stretched itself to contain that mass amount of food in there. Je deteste mon estomac.

Yesterday when by with flying colours! Or colors, whichever nation station you are currently boarding at. I ate around 370 calories, which was pretty good. Why so bad today? My tummy feels all warm and fuzzy, but it's rather funny feeling. Maybe the beast in the pit of my stomach is plotting against me, her cauldron swallowing up her wrath and dissapointment. Then she'll attack at the weakest moment and inhale all the food that enters my mouth. She'll sprinkle it with magical dust which will make my fat expand even more.

Think positive. Positive, positive, positive. Okay, well I didn't binge. 700 isn't what I wanted, but it's still a good 800 under the recommended intake. I feel full after eating chicken noodle soup, so my stomach must be shrinking. Thinking about chicken noodly soup is making me more nauseous. Tomorrow I will not go over 500, and I will slowly start cutting back more from there. Keep the goal in mind, never drift away from what I want.

Goals. Speaking of goals, I want to be under 100lbs by Halloween. I don't care if I'm a 99.9lbs for that to work, I just want to break the triple digits. I'm at 110 just now. Is that a reasonable goal, or am I just flying high? Is it unreasonable? I really need to know.

I'm cold, and I must go to the shitload of homework staring at me just now. I have read all your superduper blogs, and I'm sorry for the lack of comments. I feel horrible for being such a lurk. 20 Followers! You girlies, and guys if any, are all so amazing.

Think thin and stay strong
xoxo

Firstly, I'm awfully sorry for the lack of updates and disappearing off the radar for a bit. I've been lurking for the most part, and I feel terrible. Mais, j'ai une excuse! Ariana is prone to catching every fucking illness out there, so she's been off school for the past two weeks. Swine flu? Likely, since my lack of immune system seems to be giving up on me. I was forced to the doctor's office, and now they want blood tests. Sorry to burst your shiny, sanitized bubble Mr. Doctor, but that won't be an option. I believe I am not a ragdoll, so therefore, I refuse! No tests for Ariana. So they stocked me up on drugs instead. I think I'm high on vapor rub, I've been sniffing it all day.

My eating has been good, normal, terrible, but no worries, that will change! Ariana feels on top of the world right now, which is a very selfish exclamation, especially since my eating was unexplainable yesterday. I found a new way to curb my cravings, yes I have! I shove a spoonful of yogurt in my mouth and stop whining, run downstairs to my cave, and read all your lovely blogs. This yogurt is my new best friend. 35 calories in 100 ml, 600 ml in a big ass container. And it tastes amazing. Except for the aspartame, which in gnawing away at my knees and wrists. Oh, joy.

My biggest rant today, is the fucking male species. Why must one enter my life at such a critical point?! Meeting the most amazing boy is one thing, liking him and having him like you back is a whole other situation. I'm sorry Mr. Amazing, but I can't get involved with you. Now, let me return to my self-centered antics and lock me up in my box where the walls are plastered with thin models and screaming girls. If I can't make time for my friends, then you certainly don't stand a chance. Oh, I feel so horribly guilty! But life goes on, I doubt he would've lasted with me and my wired mind.

Enough of my whining, moaning and ranting, I hope all you amazing girls and guys are still going strong, and hopefully doing better than I am. Talking about my eating, I've had around 50 calories already today, from yogurt and le café and hopefully that piggish monster sleeping in the pit of my stomach won't wake up and try to claw her way into my head and tear apart my plans.

Now, I must go get my new phone, so I have an excuse not to catch up on the shitload of work I've missed at school. Oh, the wonders of life.

If there happens to be any typos, blame the insomnia. And thank you to all the amazing followers! I love you all.

Stay Strong && Think Thin
xoxo