“Where are you going?”

We all fall down.


Amazing article likening (particular) eating disorder treatments to a Prison.

Chasing time

You should…
You should…
You should… 

But you don’t
and you won’t. 

‘Now’ is back then and ahead, but never actually ‘now’. Now is never enough and it’s all too much to think about the discrepancy between how it is and how it should be. And time isn’t kind, and time doesn’t stop, and time doesn’t give you that chance to catch up. It runs away, chasing the future, ahead and further afar.

I lack the endurance to go the distance. To always be running through the past to get to the present which leads into the future. And they say that you shouldn’t anyway – that you should focus on the present and always be in the moment, but my now is where I’ve become stuck in my past and there’s no way to teleport myself from where I am today to where I should be but am not.

I run… 
I run…
I run…

Never fast enough to catch up
forever behind time.

Satan is surfing the sun to Earth and you’re going to hurt, but at least I’ll be home again.

Sometimes I forget to know how to feel, and I try to feel but I can’t. I get so wrapped up in my unfeeling that everything naturally disappears. I don’t mean to hurt you like you say that I hurt you, in fact, in the moment I can’t even imagine how I do, because there I am trying to hurt myself and I can’t feel a thing. To me, how can you possibly?

And I’m usually so detached that I can’t even vaguely remember what it’s like to feel, or that the reason I’m numb to begin with is to escape from that. But there I am, doing anything to try to get that feeling back just so I can figure out whether this is real or not, and I can’t trace things far back enough to know. Only to those last thoughts, “this isn’t happening… this isn’t happening…”

“I will fix you”

I’m artificially fixing myself with self-destruction: drugs, starvation and no sleep. I’m holding the torn bits back together with tape, if you will. It works enough to fool myself and enough to fool the world. The cracks are there, as obvious as broad daylight, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in life, it’s that people will turn a blind eye.

I couldn’t give a shit about my weight or appearance. I’m always the same monster despite the body I hide behind. This is about my insides. This is about the filthy fragility that presents itself when health dominates my body. This is about what falls apart and becomes exposed when people get past my body and into my mind, digging for the root of fragmentation, fragmenting me further in the process. I flake off and fly into the night.

For some, this is about control, but for me I prefer the word adhesion. The numbness that keeps me bound. No one can tear me apart and nothing can break me. Numb I may be, but numb I am as one. I fly into the night, complete, and watch the world fade behind me.

There’s nothing left to say

It’s all just gone and nothing exists to draw from. To have felt it drain from my body, like blood, now I’m cold. There’s nothing left that can be said, it’s all done with. Take me from here, I surrender.

“When will you move on?”

If all has been taken from me except for this body, then my body is left for me to take. And know that I will take it. And know that when I do, everything of mine that you stole from me will evaporate. And when it does, you will be left with the same emptiness that you left me with. 

And I will be watching you. And I will be laughing and laughing and laughing. And then I will laugh and laugh and laugh some more. And I probably won’t ever stop laughing until the day that you finish decaying from the inside out.

And THEN I will move on. THAT’S when.