My photo
I want nothing more than to be that sexy, moody, artistic waif, lounging in a coffeeshop writing poetry, existing off of black coffee and cigarettes.


Monday, May 24, 2010

Sometimes i wish i could purge.

I don't manically binge.
my "binges" generally consist of regular eating.
or eating various foods but in small quantities.

i wish i could shove my finger down my throat
and expel all the pain and disgust and fat and evil.

i'm sure it would give me the same feeling as cutting.
i've heard it related.

i've thrown up before

before when i had no dedication to dieting
i've purged a couple times.
one time after i'd eaten a packet of mr noodles.
i remember that i'd had to pull long strings of noodles from my throat
i remember the feeling of it all sliding back up
like sickly worms infecting my insides.

i couldn't touch mr noodles for months after that.
really, it should be great psychology to throw up after you eat something.
for an anorexic though.
it has not much effect on a bulimic,
who will return again to the same foods for comfort.

an anorexic would be disgusted and pleased with finding another reason
another food to cut off the list
to throw into the pile of no worries.

i'm self destructive.
that isn't too great of a surprise.

i believe i'm slowly running myself into the ground.
i'm not good enough to really be great at anything.
i don't have dedication and motivation.

the only thing stopping me from dying
is i see no purpose to death.

people always talk about pessimists vs optimists.
have you never thought of how there must be some middleman ?

i am said man.
or wo-man, rather.

i tried to use this as making a point to an ex of mine.

i don't see the water glass as half empty or half full.
i see the glass as a half glass of water.
i suppose some could argue that just referring to it as half a glass of water
would make me a pessimist,
because it's in the negative.

but i simply see the glass as being half.
it isn't half full,
it isn't half empty.
it's just half.
it is both.
it is neither.

i am the middleman.

i am the walrus.

i am a walrus.

i gained 5 pounds back.

i am a lousy girlfriend.

i am a waste of space,
i don't see the purpose to my being born.

as ridiculous as it is
i was actually pondering my existence last night.

what great impression could i possibly make on anyone's life ?
why on earth would i have been born in the first place ?

my mother had had one miscarriage before me
why was i not a miscarriage as well ?

what is my reason for being given a free pass to life ?

the ancient aztecs would ritually pierce their tongues
in order to communicate with the gods.
the bringing of blood summoned them,
and it being on their tongue would make their language that much easier to understand.

i would like to gain some sort of enlightenment from my cutting.

i suppose i do,
in a way.

i don't have a therapist,
though mom tried to get me to see a counselor.

i have Sally.
we have our chats.
I let it all spill out,
she tells me the honest truth,
reprimands me for my idiocy,
but always makes me feel better.

i am the middleman with the walrus waist.