at Eleven

Have you seen cyberbully?
I assume you did, I watced it like 8 times.
I watched it until I started getting along the pieces even more.
And guess what?
I FUCKING HATE SAMANTHA AND EVEN MORE HER DAMN FUCKING MOTHER!
Why?
Let's forget that what Sam done to her, which is 95% my story just with american people and std, and another age.
But her mother, oh her mother....
She told her to calm down, that's everything is okay, that it will get better...
Okay.
Guess what?

IT'S NOT OKAY.
IT'S FAR FROM BEING OKAY.
IT'S FOR REAL FUCKING NOT OKAY!
AND THE FACT THAT YOU TELL IT LIKE THE ONE THAT IS MISERABLE IS SAM IS THE MAIN PROBLEM.

I'm not okay with that.
Sam and her mother are bitches.
Sam isn't the one who is in a danger, or will be miserable.
She's fucking not.
Taylor is!
TAYLOR ALMOST KILLED HERSELF BECAUSE OF THAT BITCH!

Each time you watch it, you understand even more how it's fucked up in every fucking way.
And each time I watch it I understand that this is my fucking life, with actors, and white people, and american slang, and English, and high school.


I envy Taylor.
She's over 14.
And so does Sam.
If I were over 14 when it happened.
That super bitch could get a police record (criminal for everything), she'll be banned from places, and it will bring me satisfaction.


But in the end, I'm surprised each time.
Why the fuck are they friends?
Hello people! That girl almost killed the other girl!

And the fact that she was bullied will never be compared to the fact how Taylor was.

The only ones who got bullied after the story seemed to end in my story, is her, that girl, Gal.



I really hate now that old songs are getting popular again.
I've heard at least 5 girls singing Let Her Go of Passanger.
I was pissed.
Let Her Go is my fucking sleep song.
It always helps me to fall asleep.
Because it makes me sad.
So does Titanium and She wolf.
But Let her go mostly.


Wait, back to Cyberbully.
Sam's intention was to protect.
MB intention was to hurt, to destroy, to humilate, and to make me go back to be unpopular.



Okay.
I just ate dinner.
In Dinner we mostly ate the gluten free super simple bread.
It's special gluten free flour, some olive oil, a bit of yeast, tons of water, a bit of egg, and huge tbsp of Honey, and cornflour!
You have no idea how delicous it is!
It's making me full of hope if I have celiac!
It's letting me know that I can still eat awesome things!
And I can make things by myself.

And after dinner.
I told my dad that his friend that he talked with at the trip, he's Daniel's father.
He was at the gym today, and he was with Gal's father and Daniel's father.
And I laguhed for 10 straight minutes because my dad had no idea.
Gal says that Daniel is making her miserable.
How fucking great, the three fathers are friends of complicated three girls.

Joy....


You know, that thing that all the old songs becoming popular again is stupid.
They can still hear Katy Perry or something.
But the last thing I want to hear from your mouth and you phone is  Eye in the Sky of The Alan's Project.
What's next? That's All of Genesis?!
Seriously, what the fuck children?
Fuck you people who decided to here songs that probably their parents heard when they were at their twenties.
I still like Kitaro, it's a wonderful calming music.
If they will hear Violently Happy of Bjork, I'd probably will do a school shooting (super duper rare in Israel, there are more chances for a missle to land in our school than shooting), and will kill them all.

And I think I should really make ways to die list on word.
I'll start with Andy Lopez.
I find it amusing.
Sorry, but getting shot by cops because you held a stupid toy gun, will make me laugh.



....



You'll never believe what I'm going to say.
Well, after dinner I binged endlessly.
I ate flakes with milk.
And then got a shower.
I felt so bloated and disgusting.
So I tried to purge it....
I almost gave up.
But I did it.
Shove, and a cough after, shoving again, and another cough, like that a few times, shove and salivia, and again, than, here it is, the milk and pieces of undigested food.
It was just the beginning, and I knew I could do more, but I was frightened.

I FUCKING PURGED PEOPLE.
ON THE FIFTEENTH OF NOVEMBER, TWO THOUSAND THIRTEEN, AT 11 PM I PURGED FOR THE FIRST TIME.

I'm now at my bed, I told my parents that I just ate too much and my stomach couldn't handle it.
I have a plastic bag near me, if I'll need to puke again.
I won't.

It was so weird.
To just take it all out.
I've heard people doig it, and their ways, and saw some movies.
But I'll never guess that it only takes practice and patience.

I'm glad I did it.
I binged so much today.
I deserve it.


I have no idea what to do now.
It's probably the most "exciting" thing I did this week.

My stomach hurts, obviously.
It was so weird.


I feel tired.
I think I'll just watch some TV and fall asleep.
I hope I have a good movie there...


Goodnight.

Berries, Survivors,
I hope you'll make it.