...this christmas, i gave you my heart...

i hate how fat i am. i consume excess calories even as i curse the added weight. i hate how i can't bring myself to lose it off. i know i could. but every day that i eat only blueberries and v-8, i stop at the store on the way home and stuff 900+ calories into my mouth. i hate my inability to be anorexic. i hate the stretch marks, cellulite, and the too small jeans. but most of all i hate that i care. when did i become this girl? i used to be fearless.

i am infinitely adaptable, yet another of my faults. yes, being adaptable is a fault. because it is just one step away from apathy. i hate that i can get used to things that i hate, things that disturb my very soul. like my italy trip (or lack there of), for example. dearest mother broke the news and my heart, and i immediately locked it in the sealed vault where i keep such things. the place where, if i look inside for too long, i start to panic and silent screams echo en my mind. but now i'm used to it. i'm over it. whatever, eh. i'll pull through. see what i mean? if i can't hold on to my dreams, what is going to happen to me>? they're all i have, some days.

eew. i am so filled with teenagerish self loathing. it's tiresome. i hate being a fucking cliché.

christmas in her ears,
.anouk.