Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Buggers and bean juice

I got bean juice on my new jeans(size 2 STILL?!?!?!). You can't see it but I know it's there. That's the point really. You can't see the fat bitch, hitchin' a ride on my back but my knees are buckling.

I woke up sobbing on my weekend. Cody about shit his pants, he said it scared him, but he was right there comforting me. It’s always someone’s trying to kill me. I know it’s not real but they’re attacking is endless, until I can’t breathe, and I wake up screaming or crying. That’s a happy thought. I feel so depressed by my part of being happy.

Today I listened politely to a morbidly obese co-worker tell me how to get abs. That’s cute and all but I don’t take advice from fat people with weak minds and bodies to match. I don’t care if you have all the knowledge of Buhda, you’re a great big fat person. You obviously are not the person to talk to about application. MmmK?

I want something chocolate but can’t even imagine allowing myself the bitter sweetness melting on my tongue. The almost 9 miles I ran today was easy, but so is eating. I am sick of my body not matching my mind. I must work harder. I must be thinner. I must become something better than this fucked up place I live in. Have I told you I live in Provo, UT the capital of fucked up Mormons on a mission to deplete the world of all natural resources? That lie, brainwash, and manipulate all things of real spiritual value. They do, and they want me to feel guilty for drinking a cup of Joe? FUCK THEM! And their cold caffeine soda pops. I wouldn’t drink that for all the tea in China. A carbonated, high fructose, burning liquid of death. You can have your soda pop I’ll stick to tea and coffee. It’s far more natural and better for you. The end.

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