300

Oh shit. 

Well, I'll just start describing the day flow. 

I started surfing, and exactly as I thought,  nobody I knew but Keren (not psychopathic psychologist, the friend I hate).

And she was in beginners. 

Okay so at morning I woke up early, for the surfing, and I was hungry, so I ate one tomato and cucumber, with spoon of hummus and medium hard boiled egg. 

It was about 450 calories. 

At least I didn't fainted when I surfed, I even hadn't ate the apple!

Not even taking about the chocolate and bread. 

These are big "no-no" it's un-purge-able and fattening when you can't control it. 

So I haven't ate lunch. 

I wonder what for dinner. 

Something nice. 

I hope that for dinner we'll eat the rice pages, I like to eat it as tortilla, or maybe we'll eat a tortilla from corn flour, these are delicious. 

But I don't know what to do. 

If I won't eat dinner, I'd faint, if I would, I'll feel fat. 

I just eat less as possible. 

Because fainting is like wearing a shirt says "I like to starve myself to feel pretty" in big neon lights (yes, I said lights) that shine starve. 

Dammit hunger!

It's only 3pm. 

I need tea. 

For real. 

I'd make some. 

It'll also get me to sleep faster, and napping is the best option, it's like a "must" when fasting, if you won't sleep on Yom Kipur, you'd probably faint faster, or you won't fast. 

I drank some water, I was too lazy for tea. 

Whenever I go to the kitchen area, I ask myself if I want this, and then I'm like "fuck you hungry bitch! No!" It's weird, but I won't give up. 

I'll try to get some sleep. 

I should be happy that I'm able to sleep. 

On the fifth grade it was hard, I just stayed awake, going through bullying stories, sometimes crying. 

I slept for two hours. 

I feel nice. 

Still hungry, if course, but happy, I didn't fell for the unnecessary calories. 

When I slept, I was dreaming about buying energy drinks (I've heard that they're good if you want energy, and you don't want to die) and than I glanced in the store to the candy bars and started staring at the bueno, which is one of my favorites. 

And now, it sucks, I want the chocolate that it's in the house. 

Fuck. 

I kept asking myself, if I really want another 20 calories. 

I'd like to eat one, but I'd like even more to be pretty. 

So something weird that happened to me today, every ten minutes or so, the whole world seemed purple(ish) to me, it was weird, like everything got a purple shade. 

It was weird. 

But weird is me. 

I can go strong, for leggings, I'd do everything. 

Just to seem normal. 

In surfing, you have two options when big wave is coming, one is to duk down, and hold you board, the other it's to jump high, with your board, you can be bold, or not. 

I find ducking down better, even in normal life. 

And that's not that I wear slutty tight shirt that's tucked in the leggings, hell no, I'd wear a baggy shirt from the thrift market, that's covering about 60 precent of my ass. 

I'm not a slut, I'm not girly anymore. 

I'm weird, hipster in the bad way, that I'm mainstream, but in the men section in the clothing. 

I hate girls clothing. 

It's like, they waste good fabric, on fucking ugly slutty clothing, it's rare to find something pretty!

It's a waste of nice clothing, I probably hate the flannel shirts that's have some different shape because its for women, I don't consider it flannel, I consider it as a bad choice for using fabric. 

If you'd like to buy actually pretty clothing, that is much cheaper, wear men, I like mostly the shirts, and sweaters. 

You little fucker. 

You told me you were upset about the prom G-MB issue, but no, excuse me, you still admire this little murderer. 

I like murderers, as long as I'm not their victim. 

Fuck you stomach, I don't want to eat chocolate. 

I know it's only 20, but still, I ate so much this morning!

Four (fucking) hundred calories is NEVER a good amount for someone like me. 

I guess I know why I like people that don't have the ridiculously high voice, that men/boy that don't sing like a pussy if its making you understand better. 

When I learned ballet and aerobatic or however you call "artistic gymnastic" if it's how to translate it.

However, in every ending of the lesson, the very lovely teacher, told us to lie down, closing our eyes, and she dimmed the lights, she turned on calm music, and she had some chiffon soft but rough scarf or something, and just genetely brushed it on us, only the tips tickled us lightly. 

Im sorry if its sound sick, but, for gods sake, it was tickling!

 I went for the living room. 

I want to brush my teeth, and then, drink some nice tea. 

I feel weak again, damn it. 

Probably after dinner is feel better, or that I'll eat now some of our homemade schnitzels. 

I guess that I will, I don't want to see the purple again tomorrow.

I took 3 schnitzels (all together, it was in the size of one that you buy in the stores), I ate two.

With one tbsp of ketchup. 

I need to do some workout. 

What about 200 jumper jacks, I'm pretty good at it. 

But before I'd try as many as burpees as I can, when I was younger, we had epic gym teacher, and one of the warm ups was to do 20 of those, and we all got lazy and didn't done any. 

Oh it's probably not the first time I feel this way, but still it's new to me, because now I can. 

My stomach is asking me to purge it. 

I can. 

I would. 

I could. 

But defiantly I should not. 

My dad is here, he's always the last to be suspicious, but he's in the area that is probably the closest for the bathrooms. 

I want to take it out. 

Really, I do. 

But I won't get risky that much, I'm not insane. 

Enough that my mother nag me about eating. 

Oh, why are they so big, it's like I'm fucking Godzilla. 

These arms, so weird, why are they so fat?

And this disgusting muffin top, dammit. 

I won't even start to talk about my legs, they look disgusting. 

Huge, fat, legs. 

I wore leggings today, for surfing, and I wanted to cry. 

My shirt, well, it just showed how fat my arms, the leggings, muffin tops, and huge jiggling thighs. 

I want them to go away. 

I hate staying in home, and I hate my friends. 

But I have no choice, when I'm outside the house, I can say that I ate outside, or in my friends, but all I did was water. 

I want to learn how to get low calorie coffee when I'm outside. 

I'll get soon energy drinks. 

So, now instead of constantly thinking about my dream room (I mentioned it, because I have news) I only think about weigh, scales, tapes, workouts, foods...

My dad wants to change my room, why? He wants wood floor in the new room that they building. 

And my mother don't want that my brother will have wood floor. 

So, I'll have the option to make my room as how I want it!

I can ask my dad (I'm a fucking daddy's girl, but instead being cute and happy, I'm a guy with a vagina that is probably have more squidward's traits than spongebob's) that the bed will stay there, and I'll get floor height one, like the cool ones that is awesome. 

Maybe just mattress!

I want a tv, but I won't get it immediately. 

So, I want smaller closet, because what we all have is huge. 

I want something that is looking better, and cheap.

And desk, I don't know what to do with it.

I have no idea what will happen. 

I'm watching now I Used To Be Fat on MTV, it's funny, there's this ripped guy, he have tattoos all over him, like you know when people have tattoos all over their arm and can be called sleeves, so he had it, and socks. 

So tell me exactly what you'd feel, when a man like him, talking very loud (it's like, half yelling) "Rainbows and unicorns!", well, I'd laugh. 

I'm scared that I'm so close to look like them. 

I'm the third in the fattest order of our class, like I'm behind two huge guys. 

It doesn't fair. 

I'm going to do something. 

Burpees until I can't do them anymore. 

Crunches, until my body wouldn't respond to my brains orders. 

Jumping jacks, until I'd fall. 

Thank you little bitch!

Now, I can't excresise, or even express myself in any way, because you always so nosy, you have to look, you have to judge, you have to make me uncomfortable. 

I wanted to buy a notebook, and no, you didn't let me, you told me to put it back there, because you already empty one already. 

And when I said "you're lying" you got angry. 

You always does that!

I hate you, you made me hate you, my own mother, I hate you, you made me want to die, you made me hate myself, you made me want to be perfect, and do everything it takes, even if I might die, I wouldn't care. 

Why?

It's like my brain want that she'll accept me. 

I want to die, because of you, mother. 

I want to end it all. 

I'm sick of my own life. 

I have to remind myself, only six more, only six more years, and I'm out of here. 

I'm talking to myself, telling lies, using my own advices, because how can I take from someone I so hate, I can't believe you, I have no reason to, mother, I want to die because of you, and I don't trust people that makes me feel this way. 

I want to destroy the world, I want to kill everybody, everything. 

But I know that it's better for everyone, if I'll destroy myself, to kill myself, not the rest. 

I feel disgusting. 

Fat, loser, lame, worthless. 

The only thing I like to do, I barely can. 

And I'm crying now because of it. 

I barely draw things, because everyone around always looking at it, judging it. 

And writing to you, because of you I'm alive, I trust you that you won't tell a thing, because you probably can't.

And I barely can do it, I have no privacy. 

I'd love to feel something. 

I'm pretty numb here. 

And with every second that passes, I actually feel something, suicidal? No, probably not. Depressed? No, it's something else. Sad? No, not really.

I hope there's a word, because I don't want to live, but still know there's a long future. 

I'm hungry, but I don't want to be fat. 

I watch another episode of I Used To Be Fat, and I see them, and I want to be skinny. 

I want to be thin. 

I'd rather be skin to bone, than fat alone.

I hope that soon, with the running, playing, everything with sport, and my less eating and healthy eating, I'd reach my dream body, soon. 

And than I'd eat eat less again, I'll eat delicious things that I always dream about. 

But I'd eat when I'll be thin, and they'll be the only meal that I'd eat for the day. 

I want to look beautiful. 

I don't want to stay any longer with my filthy thighs touching, or my muffin top. 

This is why food is the enemy. 

I won't eat much soon. 

I'll eat the least I need for survival. 

Breakfast for tomorrow will probably be an apple, and if I'd really feel like it, and I'll do now the burpees, one chocolate cube, with the apple. 

I'd love to do it. 

I just did fucking 300 jumping jacks!

I'm chewing gum. 

I'm losing my water weight (which is probably nothing, because you can't see it on the body). 

I took a notebook I like, it have a quote on it:

"You don't write because you want to say something. You write because you've got something to say."

And that's so true about me. 

You know it the best. 

So, after happily excluding of my 300 jumping jacks (seriously, I feel like pooping rainbows and unicorns). 

I'm going to relax in my bed, watch awkward. 

Oh my fucking god, this Clark, from Awkward. He's fucking FABOLOUS!

I love Awkward. it's probably illegal to not, I just respect and adore people who write, I don't care what, unless its not for evil purposes. 

If its songs, poems (the matched series, probably says it all), books (authors), blogs (Jenna from Awkward. And me, I guess), everything you write, from code names, secret languages from the third grade, love notes, suicide notes (I won't recommend to do it for real, you may feel as shit, just stay alive, for me, not for everybody else, they'll probably betray you), and even the horrible homework of writin something that there's no way that you'd believe in, or interested in. 

Example, once I had to make a homework, to to write something about something I like, I didn't like anything, it was on the fourth grade, I was confused, even now, I can't pick. 

I won't pick something I believe in, I believe in terrible things, and my believes, religion, humor, point of view, just will kill me, eventually. 

You know what's I hate?

Love stories. 

Really, I don't mind love, like good luck with that, it's beautiful, but, stories, unrealistic expectations!

This is probably why I hate it so much, it's like watching paintings of Salvador Dali (I love it, but I just give an example for surrealistic things) they seem so real, but you know that they can't happen, just instead of it, you believe it can. 

Ahh... My hatred for lies overcoming everything. 

And unrealistic expectations disturbs me, if I know it's impossible, fuck it, if I know I can, I'm going to do it. 

I should go visit this Andrew when I'll travel for my childhood (where I'll try my best looking for the people I admire, but never got the right amount of respect), but code lyoko creators, in France, I have to visit the script writer of Iroh's story on Ba Sing Se, and this Lauren, who wrote Sokka's story. 

Oh my fucking god!

I discovered what is lazy, funny, messy, and awesome job!

Sound maker!

Like in movies, when something happens, so they add sounds. 

Zuko, should never use hair gel, never ever! 

Actually nobody separate his/hers (nobody, men, women, girl, boy) in the middle, an of course not to put gel on it. 

And reject a kiss, when...

Oh wait.. Never mind. 

Wait... What?!

I watch avatar all the time, and always get surprised again!

Like come fucking on! Zuko is probably one of the saddest people in the whole world, he was a prince, and his own father rejected him (finally found the answer of what happens when you have daddy issues as a guy, you turn the opposite from him, and you get scarred -mostly mentally and physically, Zuko is the best and worst example I found so far).

You know, I kind of love cartoons animes, it's better than real people, it's giving you no the ideal life, sometimes as twice as worse, but you still get connected, each thing separately, but you still can feel it. 

There was a girl in this rockwear themed party, not the birthday girl (which is 21, but I like her), and one of the models that she picked is named...

GEMMA!

Gemma as Gemma in the fallen stars series, with the violet eyes, when she kissed this boy, so the lights got weirdly on an off, and than teleported, and this vampire, and this witch, and the foresees. 

I hate unrealistic expectations, but books in good quality, and creativity, it's amazing. 

This is why I read the immortals (it's beautifully sick to murder the one that had a potion, because you thought you're saving the girl you love from evil immortal, but she's not even your girlfriend, an it's just confusing), or the fallen angels (I still need to read the first one), and matched series (my brain is literally melting when I read reached, it's slow, confusing, and I have to remember who done what, so far, there's mutations, a gallery, and a skydiving to rivers).

I think the post is long enough. 

I want a taco. 

Bye. 

Berries, Survivors, 

I hope you'll make it.