Hello, beautiful. I'm an aspiring actress, a tortured soul. I hate everything and love everything, both at the same time. This blog may be offensive, distasteful, or triggering. But it's for me. Well, for my issues. I need a place to let them play. This is not a "thinspo" blog. This is an "I want to be so emaciated it hurts to look at me" blog. Make what you will of me. My ask is open.
FUCK my life.
So I ate McDOnalds on the way home from Alyssa’s house, and I was planning on purging it right away. BUT NO. My mom decided we should talk about my future and what a shitty job I’m doing with my life. And also criticize me and shatter my dreams. Yeah. But most importantly, she made me wait too long. It’s too late now. I can’t purge it like I wanted to.
God, i want to kill myself.
- 7th Grade me: I will never smoke weed in my life
- 12th grade me: Bruh
If you answer this I will legit cite you as a source in my paper analyzing Pablo Neruda’s poetry.
Besides just his numerous subtly erotic love poems, what were other common themes of Pablo Neruda’s poetry? Preferably ones I could exemplify with “Don’t Go Far Off” and Love Sonnet XVII. Help?
Puking (wintergirls)
WHoOps
Blood on my hands and another binge down the toilet bowl
I can absolutely blame you for all of this. I always take full responsibility for myself, but this one, no, this one is your fault. I would almost never blame someone else for my fuck-ups, but you are the sole catalyst for today’s events. You are the reason I locked myself in the bathroom stall and sliced my wrist. You are the reason I came home and weighed myself, ate, weighed myself again, purged, weighed myself again, and then broke down sobbing over nothing.
This one is all on you. And you won’t ever even know. You probably won’t ever even see me again. Fuck you, I’m sorry I ever loved you in the first place. Goodbye.
