I can't stop listening to Black Moon.
I don't know why, but I want to gag now.
Like, there's the feeling in my throat, like I need to shove my fingers down in it.
I won't.
It makes me tear, and then my mother asks me if I'm alright and why I was crying and all those funny things.
It's not even interested in the purging thing, it quite annoys me, I mean, it doesn't do anything but harm, it usually makes you gain (but there are always many exceptions), and it's simply shitty.
Today, Judith came.
Yeah, my cousin from NYC? She's now in Israel.
It's nice that she's here, we spent a couple of good hours together.
I'm sitting now, just waiting until my biological clock will tell me that I can fall asleep.
I want my teeth to grow already, I need something sharp and strong that will entertain me.
Where is he? I hope he's alright, I want to talk to this odd person.
At the fourth grade, he changed, he started hanging out with the arsses (I think that so many people change at the fourth grade, I did too! from my friends, to become a one-of-the-line hoe), and he just got worse ever since.
A few months ago, he smoked.
Am I the only one who finds this crazy?
I don't understand why people would even want to start with smokes.
You see, there are two types of rebellious people, one who go on small and semi-good, and ones who go big and pretty damn bad.
I consider myself as semi-good, as while doing so I'm helping myself to survive, like refuse things that will hurt me in someway, or that make me feel bad.
Well, I'm anxious now.
Why? I don't know. Hell, how am I even supposed to know when you just deflate for now apparent reason?
fuckity fucksos fuck.
I just don't know why, I feel like I'm going to screw up everything tomorrow.
Like, tomorrow morning I'd discover that my homework was never finished and I just imagined it all.
And that the alarm would go off tomorrow, just as I'm cycling my way to school, late for school and for meeting Yael.
And the Iron dome would be so busy that the missile is going to fall directly at a place that I care about... Oh, why am I even doing this?!
Tomorrow, I'm going to screw up my health once again.
Fast as usual, drink as always, lie about it like a professional Hamas or Palestinian spokesman.
Anyway, I'm going to bed.
I don't know why, but I want to gag now.
Like, there's the feeling in my throat, like I need to shove my fingers down in it.
I won't.
It makes me tear, and then my mother asks me if I'm alright and why I was crying and all those funny things.
It's not even interested in the purging thing, it quite annoys me, I mean, it doesn't do anything but harm, it usually makes you gain (but there are always many exceptions), and it's simply shitty.
Today, Judith came.
Yeah, my cousin from NYC? She's now in Israel.
It's nice that she's here, we spent a couple of good hours together.
I'm sitting now, just waiting until my biological clock will tell me that I can fall asleep.
I want my teeth to grow already, I need something sharp and strong that will entertain me.
Where is he? I hope he's alright, I want to talk to this odd person.
At the fourth grade, he changed, he started hanging out with the arsses (I think that so many people change at the fourth grade, I did too! from my friends, to become a one-of-the-line hoe), and he just got worse ever since.
A few months ago, he smoked.
Am I the only one who finds this crazy?
I don't understand why people would even want to start with smokes.
You see, there are two types of rebellious people, one who go on small and semi-good, and ones who go big and pretty damn bad.
I consider myself as semi-good, as while doing so I'm helping myself to survive, like refuse things that will hurt me in someway, or that make me feel bad.
Well, I'm anxious now.
Why? I don't know. Hell, how am I even supposed to know when you just deflate for now apparent reason?
fuckity fucksos fuck.
I just don't know why, I feel like I'm going to screw up everything tomorrow.
Like, tomorrow morning I'd discover that my homework was never finished and I just imagined it all.
And that the alarm would go off tomorrow, just as I'm cycling my way to school, late for school and for meeting Yael.
And the Iron dome would be so busy that the missile is going to fall directly at a place that I care about... Oh, why am I even doing this?!
Tomorrow, I'm going to screw up my health once again.
Fast as usual, drink as always, lie about it like a professional Hamas or Palestinian spokesman.
Anyway, I'm going to bed.
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