day five.

intake: tea, four fish sticks, peanut butter toast, six hundred calories.

i would have much preferred if i'd substituted that peanut butter for margarine. oh fuck ariana.

okay, new rules just because:

-- eight hundred calories a day max.

-- mix them up each day; fool miss metabolism here.

-- try and exercise you lazy bastard.

-- no forbidden foods.

what forbidden foods, ariana?

these little bitches right here.

-- peanut butter.

-- cookies.

-- chips.

-- chocolate.

-- ice cream.

-- anything fattening basically.

anything else i can add to this list?

ariana, xoxo.

day four.

intake; special k crisps, 100 - french toast, 250 - rice, 150 - 500 calories.

but, no. mother decides to get me something from wendy's. and to be honest, it was my fault. i was whining for something from there a couple of days ago because i had an intense craving. i accidentally said it out loud instead of in my head. she got me a chicken wrap. 310 calories.

it's one of the lowest calorie things on the menu, so it's not all that bad.

all and all, that's a total of 810 calories. i feel bloated as fuck.

ariana, xoxo.

thinspiration; everybody loves it.

here's some of my favourite thinspiration. i know i've used some of it in previous posts but it's my top ones. i hope you love it as much as i do, cos these pictures get me through the day. (:

ariana, xoxo

^ lights. i absolutely adore her.

day three.

i love summer skies in the winter. it gives me that shimmer of hope that one day, the warmth won't only linger on the glass the sun shines through, but it will actually touch my soul and warm up my heart. if only.

i wish i could stop dreaming and wake up, but this empty, shaky feeling just feels too good to give up. i've been craving this feeling for so fucking long.

i wish i could see the world in a beautiful, poetic way all the time. i see glances of this place, but they go as soon as they arrive. then i'm back to the sight of this small, cold, grey town.

i'm a dreamer with an imagination too big in comparison with reality.

intake; slice of bread, one cookie, two slices of toast with margarine, four hundred and fifty calories.

day two.

Intake; small low-fat pizza, handful of cereal, four hundred calories.

J knows. I told him, because really, I've told him everything about me. He knows more about me than my own mother. He has been through a pretty deep past, with thoughts of suicide, killing, what not. He says I should be scared of him, but in all honesty, I scare myself more than he scares me. Although he wants me to go see someone about these thoughts and habits, he won't make me he says. He says he'll respect my decisions, as long as I don't kill myself. I'm fucking scared that someone else knows. He holds my future in his hands.

I'll post pictures of my piercing when I build up the confidence to do so.

Ariana, xoxo.

i got my navel pierced.

HOLY FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER. the clamp hurting more than the needle? my dear friends, for me, that was bullshit. the guy did put the need through REALLY slowly though, so that may be why. fucking-fuck fucker. it hurt, just saying.

i know i said i would update for a whole week with my food updates; i didn't, i know.

i was busy. last week was.. okay. all under the daily limit other than yesterday.

let's not even go there.

BUT, i will start today. i'll update later after dinner.

UPDATE;

intake - 500 calories.

pieces of my mind.

everytime i see a thin girl, i get this deep anger that develops in the pit of my chest. it pumps this poison through my blood, and slowly envelops my brain and mind with such loathing thoughts. the kind of thoughts that make you want to crawl up in a ball and hibernate until the sun is welcoming and the breeze is warm.

why don't humans hibernate? it's a ridiculous choice by mother nature. human's shall hibernate one day. they will.

oh, and happy valentine's day.

bonjour, mes amies.

alors, i am back from québec. and i am tired, i am restless, i am pissed off, i am frustrated, my mind is running a million miles an hour, and most of all, i am fat.

fatty fat fat fat fatty fat fat.

i ate three meals a day; nothing more, nothing less. mostly because i was too scared to order food. it's pathetic that i'll use french around my friends and at school, but in public? fuck it. i can hardly speak to people in english without stuttering, staring at the ground, or making things unbearably awkward. ariana, get a life.

i have french and english and other things i do not want oozing out of my brain. stay back in, please. i do not want this to get messy.

ALORS, J'AI CRÉÉ UN NOUVEAU PLAN.

all healthy food, no yucky-gross-extremely-fattening foods. only exception is if this kind of food is served for dinner when with my parents. for the next seven days, i will report every single calorie i inhale right here. i will do it.

because ariana, this is do or die.

ariana, why is that you NEVER learn from your countless mistakes?
you have yourself in a vicious cycle, m'dear, let it go.

thought one; i'm hungry. don't eat.
thought two; okay, just a little.
thought three; NOMNOMNOMNOM.
thought four; FUCK.
thought five; i will not repeat this again, remember this feeling.

THIS has been my thought process for the past two days. what is happening to me?!??

okay, forget it. no more, ariana. go do something more productive instead of crying and wallowing and attempting to purge then freaking out because it's kind of scary.
or even comment on blogs??

demain, je vais aller au quebec.
i've been speaking french since i could walk and i don't even know if that's right.
i'm supposed to be fucking bilingual. oh, i'm pathetic.

but yes, i am going to quebec for four days with some friends. this means speaking french and attempting to eat as little as possible. i will succeed, because then on saturday i agreed to get my belly button pierced.
what. the. fuck. was. i. thinking.

ariana, you're losing it. not that you really had it in the first place.

monday, tuesday, wednesday; 700-900 calories.

thursday; 200 calories.

friday so far; 250 calories.

i'm in a bingey-let's-eat mode. stay away from the kitchen, go elsewhere. i need gum, but i can't find any

FUCK.

don't eat. don't eat. don't eat. don't eat.

skinnyskinnyskinny

fuck, i hate myself.

sorry i haven't been commenting for the past few months. i'm scared too, to be honest. scared that i can give advice, but not live up to my own. ffffffuck.

i do read them all, i promise i really do.

ariana, xoxo